


Play the Game

by trashtrove (editoress)



Series: The Decepticon Empire [2]
Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: F/M, Sci Fi AU, Spy - Freeform, robot harem, spy games
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-04 17:32:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6667918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/editoress/pseuds/trashtrove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Decepticon Empire stretches across the known galaxy. They rule over dozens of species and countless systems. On the shining planet of New Vos, a human gathers information for the shadowy rebellion. But then she is brought to Kaon itself and becomes entangled with some of the most powerful--and dangerous--beings in the universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New Vos

**Author's Note:**

> For Melody, who is pure heroine material, right down to her refusal to admit it.
> 
> http://8tracks.com/signoragiudicelli/play-the-game

" _Citizens of the Decepticon Empire_."

On Melody's screen, a scan lanced through the image in a white flash.  The audio bar separated into layers for her analysis.  Despite the repetitive nature of the work, her eyes were locked onto the scan results.  No hidden layers, no coded data.  Only the message that Lord Megatron had recorded and sent for processing.

" _These past months have been fraught with cowardly attacks from a nameless terrorist cell.  The perpetrators refuse to come forward even under an alias, and for that I deem them beneath your notice._ "

She tilted the pad, but the holoimage layers remained steady.  Not that she was expecting anything.  Unlike some of the imperial messages that were sent out, this one was fairly new.  They had received it only yesterday.  And though no one said much about it, they all knew that every recording and text and data packet that came in from Kaon was delivered to them from Soundwave himself.  And everything that came from Soundwave was clean.

One of Melody's many duties was to ensure that no one tampered with the messages between the time they left Soundwave's data banks and the time they reached the populace.

" _My Decepticon forces will drive these enemies into the light, but until that time, they are as shadows._ "

Meaning that Lord Megatron meant the resistance to be wiped out in secret, without alarming anyone.  Later, he would drag in some scapegoats for public execution, probably by his own blade.  At least their so-noble lord and protector took no issue with getting his hands dirty.

" _They cannot harm you, and they will never weaken our empire._ "

Even through the screen, his eyes blazed like molten metal.  He raised a fist above his head.  Melody watched the audio bars register the growl of his voice.

" _Peace through tyranny.  All hail the Decepticon Empire!_ "

And then it was done.  One message, twelve subtle variations in the speech.  Melody marked the differences in this version—the last she had to review today—and flipped to the watch list of systems.

Media specialist was her official job title.  She picked the poison for each region of space.  Every system had its own flavor—its own culture and thought pattern.  A thousand factors combined to give each area a most effective brand of rhetoric.  Meanwhile, data miners fed her department condensed reports about current events and opinions for each system so they could best pick and choose where each message went.  At least, Melody assumed it was a group of data mining employees.

Who knew?  Maybe these reports, too, came from Soundwave.

Of course, it would be a crime, practically a death wish, for any media specialist to alter or tamper with a clean message.  Lord Megatron knew too well the powers of presence and speech, and he had at his side the most eerie, infamous spymaster the galaxy had ever known.  No one would dare.

No one would dare add encrypted codes to their _own_ assigned messages, anyway.

Melody discreetly made a copy of the final line of the video.  Every recording ended in the same way, which made the final five seconds the best place to embed messages of a less propaganda-like nature.  Perhaps this time she would forward it through a public channel rather than put the blame on one of her coworkers.

This was for later, of course, for use when he actually _had_ information to encrypt.  Her source had been startlingly silent of late, and Melody was slightly worried that he had finally been found out.  While Lord Megatron enjoyed public executions of his external enemies, internal Decepticon affairs tended to be hashed out in a way that left no tangible trace.

Then again, she often worried.  It was worrying work, being the lone operator on such a high-profile planet as New Vos.  This place was for the rich and the obedient.  There was no support for her here.

Melody sorted through the varied messages and the targeted systems and matched them up.  She knew by now what people would find what tactic most persuasive—and most comforting.  She knew what would cause them to ignore recent happenings, and like a good employee of the empire, she put that knowledge to proper use.

After all, there were more important things than hindering such minute details as that.  Melody did her job expertly because it allowed her to do one better than the meaningless sabotage that would come with being bad at this role.  She had better things to do—and places to be.

New Vos, as a prosperous and empire-friendly city-planet, was one of the handful of inner planets that was frequented by Cybertronians.  To most other systems, a visit by Cybertronians meant something had gone horribly wrong.  For New Vos, it often meant everyday business.  To that end, entire sections of each city were scaled to Cybertronian needs.  It was the first place any Cybertronian would land.

Thus, it was the last place Melody would go to meet her informant.

She took public transportation.  She had learned the hard way that it was too easy to track a personal vehicle.  Besides, she could always hotwire someone's glidebike if she needed to.

The diner they met at was well-lit and popular.  Another lesson she had learned at great cost: never look suspicious, even if it means being out in the open.  Her oh-so-clever informant had suggested meeting at a shady club further from her office, but she had shot down that idea at once.  Very little would have looked worse than making her way to an unusual location only to stand out once she got there.

Not to mention what a sore thumb her informant would have looked like at a club.

But when he strolled into the diner—a restaurant full of nine-to-five businesspeople having just gotten off work, moderately rich parents, and their prep school children—he looked right at home.  Everything about him fit in: the dark, expensive clothes, the sharp, clean-cut look, the self-important saunter.

Their arrangement was simple.  This diner was close to the Cybertronian quarter without being within its bounds—close enough for her informant to make it here in his holoform without trouble.

"Starscream," Melody greeted him as he sat across from her.  "You're still alive.  That's nice."

"Of course I'm alive," he grumbled.  The thundering low pitch of his voice stayed even through the holoform.  Many other things did, too—so many that Melody was fairly certain that holoform technology translated Cybertronians directly to an appropriate human form without any input from them.  "Though it's not through any lack of effort on a certain minicon's part."

Melody mentally noted those complaints.  It was truly adorable how Starscream believed he was subtle and mysterious.  "Should I ask?"

"Not information I can share, I'm afraid," he noted airily.

Melody dropped it without question.  Starscream was without a doubt one of the easiest people to work with (or rather, work _on_ ) she had ever encountered.  Most individuals, human or Cybertronian, required her to walk several lines and maintain a very specific balance in order to put them at ease.  Starscream, on the other hand, was a survivalist.  And as with all survivalists, there were only two rules: don't be a threat to his safety, and don't be an opportunity for further security.

"Then what do you have?" she asked, her tone undemanding.  She was working to mirror his nonchalant entrance, the easy but preoccupied tilt of his shoulders.  She smiled.  "Or did you just want to come see me?"

He chuckled.  He was unusually at ease, actually; most of their meetings had him twitching and checking over his shoulder every few moments.  Melody leaned back and discreetly scanned the place, but there was nothing suspicious besides Starscream's attitude.

"As _entrancing_ as your company is," he drawled, "I do have a matter of business to get to."  Melody wondered whether his flying form had anything to do with the way his voice dipped and looped through words.  He examined his nails with entirely false disinterest.  "I _could_ give you what meager information I managed to gather while barely clinging to my life and position."  His gaze flicked up to meet hers, and for a second she imagined the red glow of his true form's optics.  "But I would much rather present you with a highly profitable proposal."

Despite her reservations, Melody leaned her chin on one hand in the very picture of delighted attentiveness.

Starscream's shoulders turned slightly so that one angled forward, and his head tilted; it was the pose he took when he knew he had already won.  The mech had so many tells that she could have written a trilogy about them.  "Your efficiency in service of the Decepticon Empire has been noticed.  It's quite the impressive record.  As you know, we have some few human staff members in Kaon."

Melody's blood ran cold when she realized where this was headed.  Her only outward response was to raise her eyebrows.

"As you know, I have one of the most influential roles in the empire," he continued in a voice that told her he might not have noticed had she given into her initial urge to bury her face in her hands.  "It would take very little... shall we say _string-pulling_ on my part to ensure you have a promotion.  Think how easy your little information games would be from the capital itself."

Easier, and unfathomably more dangerous.  She smirked.  "Is the long-distance relationship getting a little hard on you?" she asked sympathetically.

He scoffed, lips pulling back in an affronted sneer.  "For your information, you ungrateful fleshling," he hissed, "I _did_ nearly get caught up in one of Soundwave's blasted investigations for your sake."  He stabbed a finger at her.  "And I _haven't_ seen any result for my noble efforts."

That was a fair accusation, considering how long it had been.  "The IDs are done," she admitted.  "I just didn't have time to pick them up by the time I got your message.  I wanted to be sure I didn't miss you."

"How thoughtful," he growled sarcastically.

"Unlike you."  She could tease sometimes, but she had to be very delicate about this part.  "What if the people I report to don't approve of this promotion?"

Starscream's smile then was the embodiment of everything that had been putting her on edge during this rendezvous.  It was wide and gleaming and sliver-thin—and it was far too knowing.  "Your glowing recommendation has already been submitted," he purred.  "I'm afraid they won't have any choice in the matter."  His smile sharpened.  "And neither will you."

And that was it.  For the most part, Lord Megatron actually left well enough alone when it came to assignments and careers.  He was true to his hatred of the ancient caste system.  But if the ruler of the entire empire extended a job offer to her, nothing good would come of turning him down.

She raised her drink.  "To moving up," she offered.

Starscream lifted his own drink into the air smoothly.  The clear plastic warped his grin beyond recognition.  "To alliances."

Melody was going to Kaon.


	2. Kaon

For two weeks, Melody went silent.

She did her job perfectly, and she tampered with nothing.  The resistance had no word from her—no trace codes, no warning of her incoming reassignment.  She knew better than to attempt to get out any information until she heard from Lord Megatron.  If the Decepticons had noticed her activity, then it was probably too late to run.  If they had not, she wasn't going to tip them off now.

The only thing she did do was pick up Starscream's shiny new false IDs.  Whatever his motivation, this upheaval was his doing.  Until she figured out why—or had other Cybertronian allies—it wouldn't do to upset him.

It occurred to her more than once over those two weeks that she had underestimated him.  Starscream was not nearly so subtle as he thought he was, and he could be utterly ridiculous at times.  But he _was_ powerful, and she had been the one to forget that.  That would not happen again.

Finally, she arrived at her office one morning to find a personally addressed message on her computer and her boss watching her with something between awe and suspicion.  Melody read it and focused on picking out the nuances in language so that she wouldn't give away her anxiety.

Nothing in it was unexpected until she came across the phrasing for the promotion itself.  "A suitable position has been created"—what was that supposed to mean?  She ran over the rest of the letter for context, but she couldn't wring any meaning out of it besides exactly what it said.  How badly did Starscream want her there?  Was it only his doing?

She gave it some hours before responding.  She endured an entire day of her coworkers' nervous stares.  She even moved casually under their scrutiny, as if everyone couldn't _feel_ the missive sitting in her computer.  At the end of the day, she did not speak to them except to leave the impression that she was pleased about being relocated to the Decepticon capital.  Her boss shook her hand with the same wide-eyed frown she had been wearing all day.

Instructions came within an hour of her reply—before she had even made it home from the office.  She packed quickly, and she spent long hours that night staring at her apartment's bare walls.  But sleep eventually claimed her.

It wasn't even Starscream who came to get her the next morning, which Melody considered a little rude.  She didn't know these two Decepticons.  The ship they came with was just a ship, a small number built for a dozen passengers at most.  The only other being there was a Venchan pilot, who was typically silent and inscrutable under the goggles and breathing mask.

Unlike their leaders, these Decepticons were entirely uninterested in ceremony.  All they cared about was confirming her identity and herding her and her belongings on board the transport.

Melody knew better than to think that she would get anything out of the pilot once they got underway, so she had to ask all her questions of the curt Decepticon grunts.  "How long will it take to reach Cybertron?" she asked pleasantly as she carried a single small case into the transport's cargo storage.

The Decepticon shrugged.  "Fifteen hours."

Melody lifted a box and carried it delicately in both hands.  "Should I expect anything when I get there?"

"A briefing."  The Con was eyeing her small stack of suitcases impatiently, probably thinking that he could pick them up all at once.

Now that was interesting.  They must actually need her for something.  She smiled brightly and picked up one more suitcase.  "I know I said it earlier, but I'm really honored to be picked for this new position.  Is Lord Megatron looking to diversify his staff, or am I just that special?"

The Decepticon's less talkative friend groaned and leaned backward.  "Look," he said, "we're on a schedule.  Why don't you let me get your metric ton of flesh coverings and you just get in the ship, okay?"

It was hard to argue with that.

The Venchan watched her board and strap in before turning and sitting in the pilot's chair.  Melody had been prepared for fifteen hours of silence, but she was in luck: the Decepticons loosened up once they were actually in transit, and the comm stayed relatively busy.  She learned that their names were Nova (the one who had answered all her questions) and Scramble.  "We call him Scram," Nova explained, "because we want him to go away."

" _Frag_ you, Nova."

Melody laughed and made a game of egging them on.  They were only too willing to oblige, and they passed a few hours tossing insults back and forth.  Perhaps it wouldn't be so difficult to make allies on Cybertron after all—and she would need new allies.  She couldn't very well rely on only Starscream.

She woke up from a light nap when the comm came to life again.  She was just in time to hear the tail end of receiving permission to land and approach vector.  They had arrived at Cybertron.

The first thing she thought that it was a lot smaller than she had expected.

For a planet that hosted such large beings, Cybertron was tiny, not even the size of New Vos.  She could practically see the individual cities, not as points of light but as indistinct clusters of buildings.  A planet that size couldn't maintain much of an atmosphere.

Another factor to make escape that much harder.

There were plenty of open landing pads, which only made sense considering the nature of so many Decepticons, but the ship and its escort bypassed them.  Instead they banked toward a wide opening halfway up a skyscraper.  The ships, living and not, twisted in such perfect unison that there was no telling who was following whom, moving seamlessly through the air traffic.  There was a reason all the non-Cybertronian imperial pilots were Venchan.

The passenger ship settled gently into the inset hangar.  On either side, Nova and Scramble returned to their proto forms with plenty of room to spare.  Melody peered through the window and watched the hangar doors shut behind them.  In a few moments, the atmosphere would be suitable for humans.

The pilot folded his hands in his lap.  Melody narrowed her eyes at him, but he gave no sign of moving from his chair.  So she waited for the hiss of repressurization to fade before prodding the door open and stepping out into the hangar.  Her shoes clicked on the metal surface.

"Here she is, Commander," Nova announced.

 _Now he shows up_.

On the other side of the hangar, flanked by more winged Decepticon soldiers, Starscream stood larger than life.

His hands—his fingers long, tapering claws in his real form—were folded behind his back.  Everything about him was long and lithe, mixing steel gray and shining silver with streaks of red.  He stood straight, wings spread, and watched her.  His mouth was curved and his eyes (optics) half-lidded in a look that was just familiar enough to let her know she might be in trouble.

"Ah," he drawled, voice scraping the bottom of his register.  That was pure smugness, and the hairs on the back of Melody's neck stood up.  "Our esteemed new media specialist."  He strolled toward her, his worrying smile only growing larger.  He stopped until he was practically standing over her, so close he forced Nova to back up.  Melody craned her neck.  She didn't even come up to his knee, and Starscream was making sure she knew it.  "Welcome to Kaon."

"Thanks."  It was all the reply she could manage, but at least she managed it with grace and composure.

They would see how much longer that lasted.

"Melody Boggess, is it?" he continued.  "I am Air Commander Starscream, second in command."

"It's an honor," Melody ground out.

Starscream waved a hand.  It was the closest view she had ever gotten of just how sharp those claws were.  "Nova will take care of your belongings.  I'm afraid Lord Megatron has insisted you attend an immediate briefing."  His smile was sickly sweet.  "If you'll follow me."

She knew what he wanted.  She smiled back, toothy but still on the right side of innocent.  "Of course, Air Commander."

"Please."  His eyes flashed gleefully.  "Just _Commander_ will do."

By the time the hangar had passed out of sight, Melody was plotting small revenges against Starscream.  He was purposefully walking just a tad faster than her stride could handle.  He had best not require her to call him Commander when they were in private and she delivered the false IDs she had worked so hard to get him.

She had the urge to ask whether Lord Megatron himself would be at this briefing, since his second had been so gracious as to show up, but she didn't want to offer Starscream any appearances of uncertainty.  And right now, no matter how casually she asked, there was no way for that question to sound anything but fearful.  Part of her didn't want to know the answer.  It would be best for her if this strange scheme stopped with Starscream.

The air commander led her to a chamber lined with screens and consoles.  A solitary figure was silhouetted against a display of network relays.

"Ah, Soundwave," Starscream purred.  He toed Melody forward.  She only just recovered enough balance to step instead of stumble.  "May I introduce your new assistant?"

The figure turned.

Melody had heard of Soundwave, but the images of him that existed were few and old, dating from back before the empire.  What she recalled was a bulky flier in the background of historical holos, always standing slightly behind and to the right of the then-champion Megatron.  She didn't recognize him now, not until she saw the mask.  It was a dark screen that covered his entire face.  A bright monitor-like line slashed across it.  He was leaner now, and the promise of deadly speed underlay his slow movement, but it was most certainly Soundwave.

"Soundwave has been somewhat lax in his duties lately," Starscream explained in an oily smooth voice.  Soundwave's gaze shifted from Melody to Starscream.  Melody gave Starscream points for not cringing.  "An ambitious little organic hacked their way into an outer-ring server.  Lieutenant, would you remind me _exactly_ how much data they got away with?"  Starscream smiled in the face of Soundwave's stare.  "For accuracy's sake."

Soundwave turned back to his console and ignored the question.  Starscream's head tilted indignantly.  Melody decided she liked this frightening communications officer.

The air commander made an oddly non-mechanical huffing sound and continued, "At any rate, you will be working with Soundwave for the time being.  When we recover the data, you will be helping to analyze whatever coding system the thief used."

He sounded awfully confident.  They clearly weren't worried about recovering the data before it got out.  So what were they after?  "What should I focus on?" she asked professionally.

"Methods, as I understand," Starscream replied breezily.  Soundwave twisted just far enough to nod a confirmation.  "The thief is a suspected rebel, and we must keep up to date on their attempts to evade our most competent of surveillance officers."  Starscream turned over a hand consolingly, but from Melody's angle it just looked as though he were baring his claws.  "A daunting assignment, to be sure, but I am _certain_ your skills will be up to the task."

Of course he was certain.  She had come up with over a dozen encoding and decoding patterns for the resistance to use.

And Starscream knew it.

"Is there anything else I should know?" she asked.

"Your console will be set up shortly."  Starscream sent a hard glare at Soundwave.  "In the meantime, let us find someone to escort you to the organic quarters."

Melody kept her mouth shut for a surprisingly long time while Starscream called in a couple of soldiers on the comm and gave them orders to meet up with them farther into the compound.  But at last she couldn't leave it be.

"What are you _doing_?" she hissed, very quietly.

Starscream, too, kept his voice low, but it was practically a purr.  "I am enlisting the aid of a loyal Decepticon citizen in the empire's time of need.  I have assured Lord Megatron that you will prove useful."  His red optics slid down to her.  His smile lifted into a sneer.  "And I _expect_ you to be _very_ useful.  To _whoever_ should require your services."

Melody kept pace with him and reminded herself to take slow breaths.  "Are you sure you're not overestimating my abilities?"

He chuckled.  "Oh, I know you have the talent I need, Melody.  You have been slipping out messages for two years and even Soundwave himself has no idea."  His voice dropped into an ominous rumble.  " _Yet_."

So that was his game.  And Melody had played right into it—not that she'd had a choice.  Now that she knew the rules, though, they would see how long Starscream stayed on top.

Even so, when they finally rendezvoused with the two soldiers—Scramble and another she didn't recognize—it was difficult to focus on planning ahead.  All she could hear was Starscream's voice behind her, thrumming through the room, as he said, " _Well_ , Melody.  Enjoy your stay."

If Scramble or the other grunt noticed anything odd about that parting shot, they didn't comment.  Melody steadied herself in silence, trying not to glance back to make sure Starscream wasn't following them.  She didn't feel safe until they entered an elevator and the doors shut behind them.

"So did you meet Lieutenant Soundwave?" Scramble piped up.

She almost laughed in relief at the innocent question.  "Yes.  He seems like the strong, silent type."

Scramble snorted.  "More like he's the terrifying stealth type.  I don't think he's been out in the field since the pit fights ended.  He just _watches_ you."

"Thanks," Melody said dryly.

"Am I right?" Scramble asked of his comrade.

The other grunt started.  "Uh.  I guess."

Scramble jerked a thumb at the other grunt.  "The orator over here is Avi."  He rounded on Avi again.  "Don't look _nervous_ , she's a tenth your size.  And squishy."

"Do you have a lot of friends, Scram?" Melody asked pointedly.

The Decepticons could only get so far into the organic quarters, since the compound was, as Scramble complained, "scaled for microorganisms."  She left them in the four-story entrance hall with a wave.  Scramble waved back, already headed in the other direction.  Avi made an awkward, indecipherable hand motion before hurrying to catch up to him.

Moving through hallways crowded with Venchans was a little surreal, just because there was no need to move out of their way.  They slid around her like water; all she had to do was walk.  She saw a handful of humans from a distance.  At least she wasn't the only one here.

Her luggage was in her assigned room.  Melody sat on the bed frame and wondered how much to unpack.  A quick examination of her hand showed she'd finally stopped shaking, at least.  But her mind still spun unsteadily.  She was going to have to give up some of the other rebels, she realized.  Maybe eventually she would find a way to work this to the advantage of the resistance, but until then, she had no choice but to play along.  She would have to do this job perfectly—no slipping, no outside contact, nothing until she was certain she could move without putting everything in jeopardy.

She was too tired for this.  The more her thoughts raced, the wearier her body felt.  There was a comm unit on the wall.  Melody cranked it up just long enough to be certain it was assigned to her, and then she pulled out a pillow and a single blanket.  The Decepticons would call her when they needed her.

She did sleep.  But she dreamed of Starscream's laughter.


	3. The Warlord

Waiting games were Melody's least favorite kind.

She had been granted her very own workstation, where Soundwave had silently put her through the paces.  She felt harried and half illiterate by the end of it, but she ripped apart code layer after code layer, detected anomalies, and isolated encryptions with all her might.  Apparently that had been enough.  Soundwave said nothing to her.  She had no idea whether she had met the requirements until Starscream leaned down slightly and said, with meaning, "Congratulations.  So _very_ impressive."

It _was_ impressive.  And she didn't think that Starscream, a military commander who dabbled in science but barely knew enough code to encrypt a text message, had any right to sound sarcastic about it.

Just for that, she had turned to Soundwave and said with as much sincerity as she could muster, "Thank you, Lieutenant."

After that, she got to work.  She held firmly to the thought that it was not much different than her former job, and in a sense, it wasn't.  She combed through layers of code and information in search of patterns, anomalies, electronic signatures—any evidence of tampering or hidden messages.  And while she was entangled in this waiting game, her only option was to dig up the messages she found and present them to her new supervisor.  Her hands were tied.  Soundwave's gaze was only ever one deliberate turn of his head away.

What truly frightened her to her bones was how _many_ of the files and transmissions Soundwave gave her had hidden messages from the resistance.  She would not allow herself to underestimate him the way she had Starscream.  Soundwave might not be able to track down every piece of the resistance, but he clearly knew where to look and who was suspect.  That was far too much knowledge for her taste.

By the time she had finished her duties for the day, her composure was a fragile shell.  None of the information she had given up had been unduly important, and none of the names were more than vaguely familiar, but even so, it had taken all her concentration not to start when one young woman had been foolish enough to use the word _Autobot_ in her encoded transmission.  Melody wanted out from under Soundwave's scrutiny as soon as possible.

"Do you need me to do anything else?" she asked.  It was the first time she'd spoken in at least two hours.  She willed the words past the tightness in her throat.

Her console shut off.  It was the only answer she got, and it was all she needed.

The cafeteria, crammed with mixed options for organic food, was crowded.  That was fine with Melody.  It meant there was no reason for anyone to look at her.  She was just another human, no more or less suspect than any other organic here.  She ate mechanically and left no trace of having been there.

She would do better in the future; she knew that.  This work was familiar, and she would learn how to play the games that surrounded it.  Melody could still win.

But that did not make today feel any less harrowing.  She walked straight back to her quarters  with the intention of seeing to her nerves and then getting quite a lot of sleep.

Every single nerve wrenched taut again the moment her apartment door closed behind her and she heard, "Well, that took you long enough."

"Starscream."  Melody didn't give him the satisfaction of eye contact.  She didn't even turn around.  "Have you ever heard of trespassing?"

A single soft footfall was the only warning she got before his voice was rumbling in her ear.  "Have you ever heard of discretion, Melody?"  She choked back a startled jump.  He chuckled anyway.  "I can hardly march down here with a fanfare at my back."

"You could knock."  Melody turned.  Starscream stood less than half a meter away, arms folded and eyes gleaming.  She brushed past him.  "You could also be more _discreet_ with your holoform."

"And miss our little rendezvous?"  Low laughter followed her further into her quarters.  "Your concern is touching, but I have been doing this for far longer than you.  Meanwhile..."  He was suddenly looming over her again, as if he were still a stories-tall Cybertronian.  "I believe you have something of mine."

"What's that?" Melody asked innocently.

Starscream's smug nonchalance clouded over, and his tone tightened to a growl.  "My new identification chips, you evasive little fleshling."

Melody proved she was worthy of the title by sidestepping his attempt to grab her arm.  "Oh, of course."  She smiled prettily.  "I thought you'd forgotten all about that."

He ground out a hum, but now that she was moving to fetch what he needed, his posture was slowly relaxing again.  He did not follow her this time.  But his gaze did, still glittering with something she was hard pressed to put a name to.  "After putting you through all that trouble?" he purred.  "Hardly."

"Then what took you so long?"  Melody looked up from undoing the back of a false datapad to shoot him a sly sideways look.  "Didn't you miss me?"  Being more careful didn't mean she couldn't play their familiar games.

She recognized the smile she got in return, the wickedly curved one that narrowed his eyes to slits.  But when she held up the false IDs for his inspection, she did not recognize the meaningful dip in his voice when he replied smoothly, "Of course.  What _ever_ would I do without you?"  His smile widened and he plucked the ID chips from her unresisting fingers.

Melody bowed her head and slammed the datapad back together to compose herself.

"I simply had to wait for the appropriate time," he drawled.  She only let out a breath when he began to move away.  "It wasn't easy, you know, to tamper with one of Soundwave's precious minicons without his notice, but I assure you that there is no better way to see that I go unnoticed when I wish to."  The smile, she noted with dismay, hadn't left.  "But as I said, I have been doing this for _quite_ some time."

Melody could only hope her tone was as conversational as it normally was with Starscream, but she doubted it.  He was different here; even in a human form he stood as though he owned the whole place.  And maybe he did.  "That's impressive," she managed.

He took two slow steps toward her and placed a finger under her chin.  She realized with a cold chill that it would normally be a sharp metal claw that rested just in front of her throat.  "I just wanted to make it clear," he rumbled easily, "that between us, _I_ am the expert."

She swallowed.  She wondered if he could feel her pulse.

"The door's back the other way," she bit out at last.

He withdrew far too calmly and sauntered off.  "I am _so_ grateful for your help, Melody," he offered as he pocketed the ID chips.  "I hope our future ventures work out as smoothly as this one has."

"Oh, no doubt," Melody agreed sweetly.  She sent him off with a mock salute.  "You take care, Starscream."

"Don't I always?"

And then, finally, he was gone.  Melody locked the door behind him.  She sat down slowly, covering her mouth with one hand.

Then she smiled to herself.

Starscream might hold the power here, and he might have played her before, but he still had a habit of running his mouth a bit too much.  Melody was fairly certain that she was _not_ meant to know about Starscream's narrowly successful attempt to hack into a minicon (or more likely, to have someone do it for him).  She had heard about the bond between Cybertronians and their minicons.  She imagined Soundwave would be _very_ unhappy to learn about Starscream's mischief.  And it didn't seem to her that Soundwave needed much excuse to move against the grating air commander.

She rubbed the still-tingling spot under her chin.  Starscream could gloat all he wanted.  He was not the one and only expert here.

That knowledge carried her through the next several days.  It even allowed her to wave gaily at Starscream when she passed him in the corridor one day.

Avi, walking beside her, craned his head around until the commander was out of sight.  "He's being really friendly to you," he said uncertainly.

Unlike Scramble and Nova, Avi had taken a while to warm up to her.  He still didn't speak often—but what he did say tended to be of note.  Melody looked up at the Decepticon.  She decided not to mention that she wouldn't call Starscream's attitude friendly so much as triumphant.  "Isn't he friendly to you?"

"Um," Avi replied nervously.

She dropped it.  "That's okay.  He can't be worse than Scram."

Avi's high laughter was interrupted by the intercom.  "Priority transmission incoming," the speakers boomed.  "Surveillance team, report to the main control room immediately."

"That's me," Melody realized.  The main control room was toward the top of the complex.  "I should hurry."

"I'll show you up," Avi decided, already heading toward the lifts.

Avi herded her all the way to the control room doors, but that was where he left her.  She strode inside on her own.

It was a cavernous room.  Walkways spanned over pits of communications consoles and the Cybertronians busy employing them.  A larger-than-life screen took up the top half of a wall.  Melody spotted Soundwave on the largest elevated platform and walked toward him with as much dignity and speed as she could muster.

Starscream was there, too, standing front and center before the screen.  It was a galaxy map, though Melody couldn't tell what system it was focusing on at the moment.  "Have you verified the signal?" Starscream asked impatiently.

Soundwave touched a button.  A picture of a bulky, blue Cybertronian appeared in the corner of the screen.

"Ah, Commander Dreadwing.  Let us hope he brings _good_ news."

An audio playback flickered to life.  The precise voice that came over the speakers was the very embodiment of short and to the point.  " _The thief—Elizabeth Palmer—has been apprehended.  The data has been recovered.  I am en route to Cybertron with both.  Skyquake is in pursuit of her accomplices._ "

Another rebel brought down.  At least this one wasn't her fault.  In fact, from a certain point of view, it was this Elizabeth Palmer's fault that Starscream had had an excuse to drag Melody to Kaon in the first place.  Still, Melody had a duty to resistance.  If she could find some way to copy the data that would be coming back to them—

"Good news, indeed," thundered a voice behind her.

It was a voice Melody had heard nearly every day for the past several years of her life.  She knew it like the back of her hand—its rough points, its cadence, its rise and fall through phrases.  There was absolutely no mistaking that voice.

Despite that, despite Starscream's sudden, vaguely guilty turn, despite the way Soundwave straightened and gave the newcomer his full attention, she hoped she was wrong.

"Lord Megatron," Starscream greeted hurriedly.

Melody steeled herself and turned around.

She had spent all her working hours looking at holos of this mech.  It left her incredibly unprepared to stand before him.  He was even taller than Starscream, and several times larger besides.  He stood like he was immovable, the anchor point of the entire station.  He was covered in scar-striped silver plating, warlike even in repose.  His hands were folded behind his back as he watched Starscream with narrowed, sun-red eyes.

His eyes were dangerous.  Sharp, piercing brilliance and low-burning fury both shone in them, and there was no escaping his gaze.

Melody was pinned to the spot when Megatron turned to her.

"So this is our acclaimed code expert," he rumbled.

Starscream began to reply, but Melody would not let anyone speak for her, least of all the Decepticon who was currently the biggest threat to her security.  "It's an honor, Lord Megatron," she said carefully.  She bowed briefly.

When she straightened again, Megatron was still watching her.  "I hope you are as _useful_ as Commander Starscream has made you out to be."

"I will be, Lord Megatron."  There was no room for any other response.

Megatron nodded.  "Track his progress," he told Soundwave.  Soundwave did not salute or bow.  He just continued to watch Megatron.  "Keep me informed.  Do _not_ lose them."

Lord Megatron left the control room, but Melody's heart still thudded in her chest.  The stolen data was what she had been brought here for.  It wouldn't be long now.

All she had to do was survive.


	4. Doctor in the House

Melody sat in her quarters and tried not to scream.

Days of working diligently under Soundwave's watch had taught her that there was no chance of her pulling off her old tricks so long as she was here.  There would be no more sneaking out information through official channels.  If she wanted to continue helping the resistance, she would have to be much, much cleverer about it.  And here in Kaon, she would have to be infinitely more careful.  All in all, she would have much preferred getting this job over with.

But then the news had come—Dreadwing and the stolen data had pulled a u-turn and were on a wild hunt for more rebels.  The data would make its way back, whether it arrived in Dreadwing's hands or with the squad Lord Megatron had sent out in search of him.

In the meantime, her survival game had just been extended indefinitely.  The longer she walked the line, the more it seemed like a knife edge.  She couldn't even confide, even partially, in one of the soldiers she had become acquainted with.  Nova was among the seekers pursuing Dreadwing, and both Avi and Scramble had been sent out to break up a blockade two systems away.  There was no one she dared talk to.

And the very worst part of it all, at least at the moment, was that Starscream was in her quarters.

"Send in the troops," Starscream was ranting.  " _Always_ the troops.  For an invasion or a violent uprising, that would certainly be a fitting response, but Primus forbid anyone so much as _vent_ near Lord Megatron or he sends out soldiers."

Circumstances may have kept Melody from complaining, but they certainly did not stop Starscream.  She had almost become accustomed to his presence in her quarters.  Her only reprieve was in the fact that it was slightly more difficult to feel threatened by a frustrated, pacing Starscream than a smug, growling one.

That said, his slender holoform marching back and forth across her floor, hair disheveled and teeth flashing, was quite a sight.

"I _urged_ him to let the matter play out," the air commander declared for the fourth time.  "If Dreadwing gets his wish, we will have fewer rebels to deal with. Not to mention how much easier it would be to track him if we just _let him_ reach his goal first."

That, she was coming to understand, was Starscream's idea of the perfect plan: wait for the dust to settle and collect your winnings.  Melody didn't necessarily disagree.

"Lord Megatron doesn't seem like the type to wait out a fight," she pointed out.  As ever, it was just enough to keep him talking.  If indeed he required any encouragement.

" _Gladiators_ ," Starscream sneered.  "It's as if he's _incapable_ of grasping any solution beyond fists and cannons."

"Unlike you."

He spun to face her, eyes flashing in some unfathomable mix of glee and still-simmering frustration.  "Unlike me," he agreed, voice dragging over each word.  The way it thrummed was not enough to distract her from the long steps he took in her direction—but it was enough to hold her in place until it was too late to move away.

Now Starscream's eyes were glittering.  He looked like he had an idea, and worse, an idea involving her.  It was time to put a stop to this.  Melody held her ground.  "The real question is," she said evenly, "why are you telling _me_?"

He matched her tone with a perfect, charming smile.  "You sell yourself short, Melody," he purred.  "You are an _invaluable_ asset to me.  After all, who else could I confide in?  No one else's silence is so thoroughly assured."

For a breathless instant, she couldn't tell whether her vision had narrowed to that sharpening smile or he was leaning toward her.  He was getting bolder.  She had to stop this—now.  Her hand inched upward.

"In fact," he continued, pitch dropping further, easing ever closer, "there _is_ a matter I would—"

He was a scant ten centimeters from her face when she put her hand against the center of his chest.

It was the barest touch, only enough to keep him from getting any closer, but Starscream jerked to a halt as if she'd shot him.  His Adam's apple bobbed wildly.  When she met his gaze again, his eyes were round and extraordinarily unguarded.  He made a soft noise—one that could have been anything from surprise to a punch to the gut—and was silent.

Melody found she was speechless, too, if only out of sheer bewilderment.  She stepped back.  The way his eyes followed her made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

" _Air Commander Starscream to the med lab facilities._ "

Starscream started with a hiss at the voice from the intercom.  Melody clenched her hand into a fist and blew out a silent, calming breath.

" _Paging Commander Starscream—again.  Haste would be appreciated._ "

She didn't recognize the voice, but in that moment, she felt an overwhelming gratitude toward its owner.  Starscream huffed, flexed his shoulders in a way that suggested wing movement, and turned away from her.  "What?" he snapped, presumably to his internal comm.

Melody regained her bearing by staying exactly where she was and straightening her posture bit by bit.  Her heartbeat was just setting back to normal when Starscream's side of the conversation tripped it up again.

"And Avi?"

Avi was one of the deployed troops Starscream had just been complaining about.  It wasn't hard to connect that fact with a summons to med lab.  The silence thickened.

"Fine," Starscream growled.  "I'm on my way."  Without another word—specifically without looking at her—he stormed out of her quarters.

 _And good riddance_ , she thought, but too many questions remained, and not all of them concerned the relentless air commander.  Melody gathered information where she could, but she was rarely invited to discuss military matters, and she had never been to the med lab facilities.  If she could find a reasonable excuse to tag along, it might be worth the inconvenience of Starscream's increasingly baffling presence.

Melody followed that reasoning up to the main floors, where she innocuously asked after Air Commander Starscream.  She prepared an excuse for her curiosity— _I wanted to ask him something about his plan to retrieve the stolen data_ —but knew better than to offer it too eagerly.  No one wanted to know, so she never had to deliver her lie.  She got directions to med lab without any difficulty.  It seemed the Decepticons, at least those who worked near the surveillance wing, were getting used to her.

The med lab doors were impossibly wide, offering enough room for three seekers standing wingtip to wingtip.  It made Melody feel exposed, but it also allowed her a great view of the room before she even walked in.

She saw Avi first, nervous as usual but unharmed.  His visor quirked toward her, but he stayed silent.  She made a mental note to do something nice for him later.

None of the other occupants of the medical facilities took any notice of her.  The seeker on the surgical berth might have been unconscious, for one.  Starscream was leaning over him to spit arguments at a hotrod-red bot she didn't recognize.  And she would have known if she had ever seen him before.  He was the short, bulky opposite to Starscream's frame.  Much of him seemed to exist in direct contrast to the seeker commander—the facade of disinterest, the slow grace of his movements.

"After all your boasting, you're going to balk at writing a _report_?" Starscream snarled.

"I'm writing the report either way," the other Decepticon pointed out.  He had to be the medic.  The irritation in his tone didn't crack his nonchalant composure; it became a part of it, like needles on a cactus.  "That _is_ part of my job description.  What I will not be doing is turning it into a maudlin letter."

"A suggestion to change tactics," Starscream insisted.  Megatron's dismissal of his idea still rankled, apparently.  Melody filed that away.

"With you, is there really any difference?" the medic asked wryly.  His voice rolled smoothly along his words.  "Besides, I could include holoimages of wounded sparklings and it wouldn't dent Lord Megatron's spark casing.  Perhaps _you_ should swap tactics, Starscream."

Starscream's wings flared, and he jabbed a finger at the medic.  "If you think I am not _already_ —"

"Stop that."  The medic swatted him away.  "If those claw mods of yours puncture my patient, it'll be another cycle of work for me."

The air commander backed off with an annoyed growl.  "Just remember, Knockout, that if _you_ should ever come to _me_ for help..."

The medic's eyes flickered toward Melody and shone in a brief, private smirk.  Before she could so much as react, he had turned back to the wounded seeker and his conversation.  "Yes, yes, I do know the drill, Starscream."

Starscream spun on his heel to stalk away but stopped short, wings snapping back at the sight of Melody.  "What are _you_ doing here?" he hissed.

"I was looking for you," she replied with impeccable professional concern.  "Someone told me you were in the med lab.  Are you okay?"

Starscream rumbled uncomfortably and marched past her without a word.  Only once he was gone did Avi start easing away from where he had been pressed against the back wall.  Low laughter drew her attention back to the berth, where Knockout was watching her with a wide, easy smile.

"Sneaky, sneaky," he admonished lowly.

Something in his tone drew an answering smile out of her.  "I didn't want to interrupt," she assured him, all modesty.

He hummed, a sound that distantly approximated an engine revving.  "What in Primus' name did you do to our air commander?"

"I have no idea."  That, at least, was the truth.  "He's a sensitive little flower."

Knockout's laughter was rich and dangerously pleased.  Everything about this was dangerous—not because, like Starscream, he was actively plotting to use her or because, like her silent supervisor, he might discover her at any instant and kill her, but because those things did _not_ apply to Knockout.  In the face of his casual amusement, it was too easy to let her guard down.

 "I'd better go," Melody decided.

Knockout waved.  His other hand flipped into a buzz saw that whined immediately to life.  "Come back and see us," he crooned.

She likely would.  If not just for the figurative breath of fresh air, then because she still needed to expand her support network beyond Starscream.  She refused to rely only on him.  In fact, she would prefer not to rely on him at all.

Of course, all her problems could be avoided at once if only they could get their precious stolen data back.  She had to wonder whether Starscream had advocated for waiting out the battle because it aligned with his natural tactics or because it left her trapped under his power longer.  Likely it was a happy coincidence of benefits for him.  Megatron's current plan of action was faster, but surely there was a more efficient way to get this over with.

And, of course, there was.

The problem was that in either case, they were waiting to react to Dreadwing—following his trail in one way or another.  And they didn't have to.  Perhaps she could even save a few rebels.

Why hadn't she thought of this sooner?

Starscream was going to be _furious_.

Melody made it to the main control room in record time.  Soundwave was there, as she suspected he always was when he wasn't busy watching her.  And beside him stood Megatron.  Her heart pounded against her ribcage.

Soundwave saw her coming first, and a moment later, Megatron turned around to follow his gaze.  They gave no indication of whether she was allowed to approach, so she did so as deferentially as possible.  She stopped at what would have been a respectful distance for a Cybertronian but felt like half a city block to her.

It was still close enough that she could feel Megatron's eyes boring into her.

She bowed, not too briefly.  "Lord Megatron.  I'm sorry to interrupt—and I know I'm only a code consultant—but I have an idea of how to retrieve your missing data."

His bearing darkened.  His attention on her turned sour.  Even so, he commanded, "Speak."

"The Decepticon forces are chasing your rogue commander, and he is chasing the rebels," Melody summed up.  "But I think we have enough encoded rebel messages to be able to forge one."

Megatron's eyes began to clear and sharpen again.  It returned her confidence and flushed her full of adrenaline at the same time.  Her words came faster now.  "If we can give Dreadwing a false trail to follow, we won't have to chase him.  He'll come to you."

The silence stretched on so long that she began to believe she had overreached this time.  Perhaps she should have stuck to her familiar games with Starscream.  She had no way of knowing whether she had offended Megatron until it was too late.

Even now, she couldn't tell.  The way he watched her had changed entirely.  Something did burn brightly in his gaze, something that made her breath hitch, but it was unreadable.  Finally, Megatron turned to the surveillance officer.  "Soundwave?"  It was the first time she had heard him utter anything resembling a question.

Soundwave was still for a long moment, but then he nodded.

Megatron bared his teeth at her.  "Then you will report to Soundwave when he is ready for you.  Together you will devise a suitable message to serve as bait."

"Yes, Lord Megatron."  When she straightened from another bow, his eyes were already fixed to hers, the only bright points in dark steel.

"Congratulations," he said softly, his voice a blade scraping against a whetstone.  "You may prove useful after all."


	5. Party Like a Seeker

Cybertron was not as cold as its metal form and thin atmosphere promised.  Melody only understood enough of its inner workings to get the sense that the planet itself was alive in a vague way.  She didn't care to dig beyond that.  The galaxy was an unnerving enough place without thinking too hard about the fact that the very world beneath her feet might be even a little conscious.  But she did let herself take comfort in the warmth that was guaranteed by a closer sun, endless machinery, and the density of life in the capital.  Even if some of that warmth might have come from Cybertron.

It was the only reason she was considering going out.  Traveling in the city was not a problem.  The idea that Cybertronians might not have a concept of climate control had been.  But as it stood, she had no objections.  "Should I dress up for this party?" she asked.

Avi tucked his chin uncertainly.  "Dress up?" he repeated.

"Oh," Melody said, struck by the sudden realization that only idiots with holoforms would care about fashion and indeed clothing as a whole, "bless you."  She was not going to dress up at all.

"Uh..."

"Don't worry about it."  They started up a ramp, and Avi as ever was careful to match her pace.  "Are you sure I won't be in the way if I come?"

"No, I actually, uh, went to visit Scramble earlier."  His shoulders curved in.  Melody had started to wonder whether he was afraid of the med lab; he always got anxious around that subject.  "He said he wanted you to come."

That was news to her.  "Really?  Scram said that?"

Avi nodded resolutely.

Melody gave in to her nature.  A little prodding wouldn't actually hurt him.  "I guess the good news is that since Scramble's getting released, this will be the last time you have to trek over to med lab."

"Yeah," Avi replied faintly.

Melody narrowed her eyes, but it was a mystery for another day.  The med lab was just around the next corner.  There was a steady _boom_ of footfalls, and Melody expertly scooted to the side just as a mountainous Cybertronian strode hurriedly past her and Avi.  He didn't look like the sort of mech who could hurry, but he was there and gone without enough time to exchange greetings, even if he had cared to.  She had seen him during a previous visit—the medic's assistant, and as far as she could tell an officer of some kind.  Avi was no jumpier than usual around him, so she had marked the mech down as someone she didn't need to worry about right now.

Knockout spotted their approach through the open door.  "Well, if it isn't our local code breaker," he announced as they entered.  "Did you escape from Soundwave's eternal watch?"

Melody's eyes widened convincingly.  "I thought he was always watching."

Knockout laughed.  "Who knows?  If he is, he's been listening to this seeker whine for the past three cycles."

"I'm _not_ whining," grumbled a low and still slightly slurred voice.  The surgical berth was too tall for Melody to see, but she did catch one clawed hand waving in an agitated gesture.  The Decepticon medic must have been an intimidating figure to keep Scramble from breaking out of the med lab at this point.  "I'm telling you I'm ready to _go_."

"Oh?  I must have missed your medical license somewhere.  You can leave if you want, seeker, but if you want to retain the use of some vital lines, you might want to listen to your doctor."  Knockout offered a smile that had nothing to do with a good bedside manner.  It sharpened when he turned on Avi.  "Nothing's wrong with _you_ , by the way.   You _are_ the same seeker who keeps showing up, aren't you?"

Avi's wings tilted back.  "Uh..."

"He's a big sparkling," Scramble interjected from the berth.  "Can't stand being away from his squad."

Whatever was going on, Scramble was in on it.  Melody took note of that, since he was more likely to talk than Avi.  Knockout looked just as convinced as Melody, one finely wrought eyebrow arching in amusement.

Avi straightened marginally.  "I just haven't been redeployed yet," he said.  "The commander hasn't said."

Fortunately (or perhaps unfortunately), Knockout seemed to take that as an appropriate change of subject.  His  gaze flickered to Melody.  "Ah, yes," he purred, "our illustrious and incredibly distracted air commander."

Melody knew her cue when she heard it.  "Starscream's been acting strange?"  She already knew the answer.

"Oh, yes.  He came in earlier and said fewer than ten words.  I nearly scheduled him for an examination."  The medic lowered a diagnostic tool over Scramble and watched it as though it were a mildly interesting holoprogram.  "Either someone is out to kill him or someone paid him a compliment.  Either way, things are going to get interesting."

Melody resigned herself to the dread of not knowing what the answer was.  She still couldn't decipher what had happened that day in her quarters, much less what effect it had had on Starscream.  Knockout's attention was on the medical readout rather than her reaction, but when she looked over, she found Avi staring at her.  His gaze immediately snapped back to Scramble.

That was fair, she reminded herself.  At least the curiosity was mutual.

"Well, well, well," Knockout drawled.  "It looks like you're going to continue functioning after all, seeker."  He put the diagnostic tool away with a satisfied smile.  "You're free to go.  _Try_ not to get ripped apart again.  I put quite a lot of work into plating your side back together."

Scramble was already off the berth, shoulders rolling and wings flexing.  "Thanks, Doc," he allowed, and then, "see ya never."  He strode out, and Avi fell into step with him.

"They're such a grateful bunch," Knockout commented dryly.

Melody shrugged.  " _I_ appreciate it," she assured him.  "I would have missed Scram's sense of humor."

Knockout's brows rose.  "Your life must be incredibly dull if you think the seeker brat is witty."

Melody would have defended her friend, but at that moment Scramble called from down the hallway, "Are you coming, squishy?"

Her mouth closed.  Knockout watched her with a smirk.  "I see what you mean," she managed.  She waved goodbye to Knockout, who threw her a mock salute before turning to a work table.

Scramble and Avi were waiting for her just around the corner.  To her surprise, Scramble jabbed a finger at her.  "Don't get all friendly with the medic," he warned.

Melody raised one eyebrow.  And then both.  "Excuse me?"

"He's got a..."  Avi hesitated.  "A human thing."

Avi's concern convinced her that Scram hadn't suddenly decided to be more of a jerk than usual.  They continued their journey down the hall.  "How so?" she asked seriously.

Scramble threw up his hands.  "He just takes to 'em!  First they're friends, then they spend all their time in med lab."

Melody tried to take him seriously.  "Doing what?"

"Dunno," Scramble said darkly, "but if you'd ever seen him work a buzz saw, you wouldn't assume it was good.  Sometimes they disappear afterwards."

"That was just one," Avi protested.

Melody waved a hand to get their attention, which was no small feat.  "A human _disappeared_?"

"Um," said Avi.

"Yeah, the one that just so happened to get _real_ cozy with the medic."  Scramble folded his arms.  "So don't."

She sensed that story time was over.  Scramble had never had an abundance of patience, but she'd rarely seen him so snappish.  "Got it, buddy," she assured him.  With a deft twist in the conversation, she lightened the mood.  "Did you really invite me to your party?"

He took a second to catch up.  "Yeah."

"I'm touched, Scram."

"You'd better be intoxicated.  Humans can do that, right?"

Melody laughed.  "Oh, yeah.  I can do that."

Scramble's ominous mood had passed completely by the time they separated so Melody could return to the organic quarters.  It was a relief as far as she was concerned.  It was bad enough to worry about his recovery from being shot down over a distant world; vague warnings were too much.  _I could have used some warnings about Starscream_ , she thought testily.  Now that she considered it, it was peculiar that Scramble and Avi suspected Knockout but had nothing to say about Starscream's behavior the past several days.

A flash of silver caught her eye.  Speak of the devil—or think too hard on the devil, perhaps.  Whatever Melody was doing that continuously summoned Starscream to her vicinity, she needed to stop.

She kept her pace steady and prepared to endure his new favorite act.  It involved only him peering wordlessly at her as she passed, wings alert.  This most recent brand of brief, silent encounters left her nerves raw.  There was no hint to his inner thoughts.  She wished he'd say something—anything.

Actually, she realized as they came close enough for his slender form to tower over her and she saw him start to open his mouth—no.  No, she didn't wish for that.  But it was too late to take it back; his voice dove through the space between them and hit with a physical tremor.

"And where are _you_ off to?" Starscream asked, voice unbearably low.

Only a few days of reprieve and she had already forgotten what that sound did.  "To my quarters, Commander," she answered, clipped and professional.  "Why?  Do you have an errand for me?  You might have to clear it with Soundwave."

He turned to face her.  The thinnest, most delicate veneer of nonchalance covered his movements.  "Not at the moment," he sighed, examining his claw tips.  Glowing red optics landed on her with terrible intent.  "If I need something of you, I will be certain to let you know."

Melody's heart thudded in her throat, but it didn't cause her words to waver.  "Great.  Comm me sometime."

All her unease peaked at once when he smiled.  If Starscream had been thrown off balance over the last few days, the smile told her that was no longer the case.  It was slow and knowing and razor thin.  "I _much_ prefer our briefings to occur in person."

Her mind was filled with the blaring of alarms.  She forced a smile.  "I'll be gone this evening, but we'll schedule something."  She started down the corridor, trying to control her strides.  "Commander."

He scowled, which was some small comfort.  He did not stop watching her until she was out of sight.  That much she knew without turning around, and she neither turned around nor stopped until she was safely locked in her quarters.

This was no good.

Showering didn't improve the situation, but it helped her.  She was just beginning to tackle the question of how much effort she should put into her outfit for a group of soldiers who had no concept of clothing when her comm unit pinged.  She pulled up the message.

_0900 wing P L6 comm serv. c_

Soundwave was as verbose as ever.  Fortunately, Melody had spent enough time around truly complicated codes to be able to decipher even the curtest directions.  The looming prospect of creating a falsified rebel message without giving herself away should have added to her anxiety, but instead she found herself looking forward to it.  This was something she could do.  Unlike mysterious medics and moody air commanders, code was easy to navigate.  Code did what it was _supposed_ to.

Still, that work would mean Soundwave standing over her.  Melody did not kid herself about the surveillance officer.  His tolerance was not a rapport between them.  She would not allow herself to imagine any measure of safety just because he nodded at her once in a while and did not openly threaten her.

Lately even Soundwave had been eyeing her more warily than usual.  Everyone was going nuts.

Melody grabbed a blouse with the sort of bright pattern that might impress seekers and got dressed.  Her shift with Soundwave wasn't too early, so a night out with the boys wouldn't pose a problem.  It would probably be fun.  But at the moment, Melody couldn't pull her mind away from the feeling of being watched at every turn.

"This had better be one hell of a party, Scram," she sighed, and left.

* * *

At the very least, it was the most exciting party Melody had ever been to.  She hadn't even made it to Scramble's table and she had nearly been stepped on twice.

Cybertronian bars had accommodations for organics, but not by much.  Unlike the compound in which she worked, there was no scaled-down section separate from the main bar.  Instead, the Decepticons took up the majority of the room and organics were expected to keep near the walls.  It would have been hazardous enough had she been here by herself, but since she had to traverse the center of the bar, it was an exercise in evasion.

Melody dodged another near-death experience and was silently grateful that she had worn sensible shoes.  These Decepticons certainly didn't waste time looking where they were going, especially when they were inebriated.  A set of feet—servos or whatever—stopped right in front of her.  She weaved around them.

Suddenly she was lifted off the ground.  She flailed in panic against the grip around her middle.

"Hey, whoa!" said a familiar voice.  Melody was turned in midair to face Avi.  The voice was the only way she knew it was him—the voice, and the way his head was ducked sheepishly.  The combat mask that was standard uniform for Decepticon soldiers was gone.  It had barely occurred to her until now, staring at wide red optics, that she had never seen their faces.   "Sorry," Avi continued.  "I tried to say something, but you didn't hear me."

Melody tried to will her heart rate back to normal.  "Speak up next time, Avi!"

"Sorry," he repeated.  "Do you want me to, uh, take you the rest of the way?"

Melody knew he meant well, but there was absolutely no way she was going to be carried across a bar while she was sober.  "Put me down.  Let me walk beside you."

Avi relented, and with his help she made it safely to the small gathering of Decepticon soldiers on the far side of the room.  Unfortunately, Cybertronians weren't big on chairs, so Melody was forced to accept a lift up onto the table the grunts were standing around.  Something resembling a cheer greeted her appearance.

Scramble was leaning suspiciously against the table.  He pointed at her.  "Nice cloth."  He turned to a grunt beside him.  "Right?"

"I thought it was a paint job," the other muttered.

Melody straightened her shirt and sat down on the table, not too close to the edge.  "Thank you.  Look at you, Scram you have—"  She counted around the table.  "Five whole friends."

"Four and an ounce," Scramble retorted, measuring her with an insultingly small gap between his thumb and finger.  His brows lowered sullenly, and he took a gulp of whatever high-grade they were busy consuming.  "Plus Nova, wherever he is."

The soldier who had spoken up before raised his glass toward the sky.  "Nova.  Good winds, safe flying."

The others echoed him quietly and took a long drink.  Every one of them had wings flaring from their backs.  Melody repeated the words under her breath.

When the moment had passed, she said, "So where does a girl get a drink around here?"

Avi tried in vain to wave over an attendant and ended up leaving to make her order at the bar.  Scramble gestured nebulously around the table.  "So that's Six, and Nosedive, and whoever the frag Nosedive brought with him—shut up, Flack, I'm kidding, I know your slaggin' name.  This is the squishy I was telling you about.  Boggess.  Melody.  One of those."

All three new faces turned to her.  Melody smiled easily.  "Just Melody's fine.  Don't call me squishy, please.  Remember that I can hack your comm archive."

To her delight, Scramble's face contorted in dawning uncertainty.  Flack and Nosedive laughed at him.  The soldier who had toasted—Six—grunted, "A meter and a half high and she's too much for you, Scram."

Scramble scowled.  "Ffffrag you."

Avi returned carrying what looked like the smallest plastic container in the galaxy.  In reality, once it sat in Melody's hands, it was a worryingly large cup of wine.  "Thanks, Av."

"Yeah, you're welcome."  Avi leaned over her.  "What is it?"

"Alcohol," Melody replied.  "It's fantastic."  She started to take a grateful sip but paused.  "I've got a toast."  She raised her glass and met the curious red gazes around her.  "To Scramble," she declared, "for staying in the med lab long enough to get patched up."

Nosedive was the first to raise his glass in return.  "It's a fragging miracle," he said thickly.  The others joined in.

To Melody's surprise, it was Avi who added, "And to Knockout for doing the patching."

Scramble snorted as he downed his drink.  "Don't."

"He did a good job," Avi insisted.

"Well, you'd know!" Scramble shot back.

Avi flinched, wings snapping back.  Scramble muttered something to the table that might have been an apology.  It was a short exchange quickly buried in Flack's demands that the two of them share any interesting stories from the front, but Melody catalogued it as she took a careful sip of her wine.

"There were resistance ships in orbit, and we shot at them," Scramble was retorting.  "You want me to draw you a picture?"

Flack waved at him to shut up, nearly smacking Six in the process.  "Come on, it's not like it was boring.  You've got to have _something_."

"Didn't even land on the planet.  Ask Avi."

Scramble was obviously in no mood for war stories, and Avi did not look enthusiastic, either.  "Heroic battles are fine," Melody put in, "but doesn't anyone have any embarrassing stories about Scram?"

And just like that, she had three new friends.


	6. No Rest for the Wicked

If Melody was a little bleary upon meeting Soundwave the next morning, then she didn't let it affect her performance.  Years of maintaining her cool under deadly pressure (along with a sleepy brand of apathy) let her type up a rough draft despite Soundwave's stare.  She sketched out the bare bones of the faked rebel message and then turned to the lieutenant to ask for details.

Soundwave provided.

A hollowness that had nothing to do with a lack of sleep filled her chest.  She didn't bother wondering where Soundwave had gotten so much information.  She just stared, suddenly wide awake, as her screen filled with data.  She saw his starting point—an unclear image of the rebel ship Dreadwing and Skyquake had hunted down paired with their mission reports.  From almost nothing Soundwave had built up mountains of detail.  He had tracked other probable sightings of the ship.  He had cross referenced their tactics with other known rebel activity to determine which cells they might hail from and what other operations they might have been involved in.  It reminded her how vast Soundwave's web really was.

Melody wished she had that cup of wine about now.

But she buckled down and did what she was best at—her job.  It helped her nerves that for once, her goal and Soundwave's were the same.  She had helped him identify so many rebels that saving these few from Dreadwing was the least she could do.  And the sooner the Decepticons retrieved their stolen data, the sooner she could get out of this death trap.

So she tweaked the message for the regional lingo the rebels were most likely to have picked up.  She made a quick, vague reference to one of their earlier missions.  The rest she trimmed to sound concise bordering on panicked.

Melody paused.  "I assume you know what coordinates to send our wayward commander to."

Soundwave didn't respond, but the message filled in with a set of coordinates not far from a trade planet.

From there she made a show of pulling up some decoded rebel transmissions and picking through their encryption patterns.  Fortunately, after several weeks, she was familiar with the line between appearing incompetent and too familiar.  She pulled a few likely candidates to the side—quick coding jobs, the kind of layered message you might send with a Decepticon commander right on your tail.  Of those she picked the most universal encryption.

Soundwave was still watching.  It unnerved her more than she had expected.  She always worked in the room with him, but normally he attended to his own console.  This morning his focus was on her.  She couldn't make herself smile when she turned to him, but he probably wouldn't have appreciated it anyway.  "How do we make sure it's easy enough for Commander Dreadwing to decrypt?" she asked.

Soundwave turned to her screen.  The message did not change, but a few lines appeared at the beginning of it.  It was nothing more than a tag subtly marking it a rebel message.  Now it could not be mistaken for anything else.  Soundwave didn't seem to care whether Dreadwing _could_ decode the message; he only wanted to make sure that he _would_.  Melody got the feeling she didn't want to meet Dreadwing, either.

She scanned the whole thing one more time.  If the Decepticons got it to Dreadwing, it would do its job.  She stepped back and looked to Soundwave.  The surveillance officer's faceplate blipped once, and his console suddenly lit up.  Before them, larger than life, the image of Megatron's face and shoulders blazed.

"It is done?" he rumbled.  Soundwave nodded.  "Excellent."  Megatron's gaze flicked to Melody.  "How soon can it be sent out?"

Melody bowed briefly, just in case.  "As soon as the broadcast source is far enough away from Cybertron not to be tracked back.  It's arranged like a general frequency message, so we don't need to know where Dreadwing is for him to get it."

Megatron's head tilted up, teeth bared.  "You had best hope Dreadwing does indeed follow your false trail."

"He will," Melody replied, unmoved.  There was no room for anything less than absolute certainty.  Not here, not with the galaxy's ruler.  She met Megatron's hard gaze.  "And then he's yours."

His eyes flashed.  For a moment, there was nothing but those distant red stars that had always seemed to stare right through her even on screens, even across days and light years.  Then the comm cut off and Melody swallowed, wondering how long that moment had lasted.  "Lord Megatron sounded pleased," she managed.

Soundwave stared at her.  He was impossible to read, but right now she felt distinctly unwelcome.

"Don't worry, Lieutenant," she said into the eerie silence.  "Your job security is beyond compare."

A short, crackling burst of static shattered the quiet.  Melody stumbled back a step, heart pounding, but all Soundwave did was shut off her console and turn back to his own work.  Pressing a hand weakly to her chest, she left as quickly as she could.

She had never heard Soundwave make noise before.  She didn't know he _could_.  Maybe he couldn't, and that was why his voice had come out as static.  Whatever the answer, she didn't want it to happen again.  Her nerves had already been on edge after this morning's work; now they were shredded.

She needed to relax.  But even as she envisioned lying down in her quarters, her steps carried her down a familiar path to a different level.  Wrung out and anxious, Melody headed toward the one place she knew her spirits could be lifted: the med lab.

She found Knockout there, meticulously attending to the sharpened ends of his fingers.  Melody had never felt less threatened by claw mods; he looked like a human giving himself a manicure.  His red optics flicked to her, though he didn't pause in his work.  "Well, if it isn't Kaon's smallest star," he drawled.  "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Melody made her way in and stood innocuously next to a surgical berth.  "Just thought I'd stop by."

His brows shifted incredulously.  "Really?  You look like you just faced a firing squad."

"Soundwave startled me," Melody admitted.

Knockout barked out a laugh.  "Isn't he a treasure?  Don't tell me you wound up on _his_ bad side."

"I hope not," she said fervently.  "But there's no telling.  I wish I knew what I'd done to annoy him."  Assuming that static noise had indeed been annoyance.

"Mm, don't bother guessing."  Knockout put down his filing tool and leaned back against a console.  "It won't get you anywhere.  I've known him for vorns and couldn't tell you what that mech is thinking.  It's even harder for humans to read him."

Melody's brow furrowed.  "Has he worked with many humans?"

"You're the first that I know of."  He smirked.  "Congratulations."

She arranged her expression into carefully mild interest.  "What about you?"

The way Knockout's optics half closed told her she'd hit on something.  "Now where could you have gotten that idea?" he asked smoothly.

"I work with Soundwave."  She put a finger to her ear as if she had a hidden comm there and raised her eyebrows.  "I'm always listening."

"Ha!  Always listening to seeker gossip, you mean."

Melody held her poker face for a moment longer, calculating, but then allowed it to relax into a smile.  "You caught me.  Their story about a disappearing human employee got my attention."

Knockout hummed and folded his arms.  "Since you're so curious, I _did_ have a human research assistant."

"What happened to them?"

"She didn't take to authority well," Knockout replied fondly.  "Oh, she took orders and did fine work, but she hated bowing, and I don't think she was _capable_ of unquestioning obedience.  It didn't ruffle my feathers.  But the other officers..."  He shrugged.  "Fortunately she was transferred rather than terminated."

"Only because you stepped in and said something," grunted a rough voice from behind Melody.  Melody put her back to the berth to avoid being trod on.

Knockout adopted a pained expression.  "Breakdown, you are ruining my image."

Breakdown, the mountainous assistant Melody had seen around, lumbered into the med lab, sparing a glance at her.  "Talking about Jen again?"

"You liked her," Knockout shot back breezily as Breakdown ambled past him.  Optics gleaming, he confided to Melody, "She was a regular entertainer.  A firebrand, too."  He tapped his hotrod-red plating.  "And she had an _excellent_ taste in hair color."

Melody couldn't be sure this was any more true than Scramble's horror stories.  Knockout and Starscream both had their own agendas, not to mention a flair for the dramatic.  But her instinct for people trusted Breakdown.  "The seekers made it sound so scary.  The human who just disappeared one day."  She curled her fingers into theatrical claws.  "Are you sure you didn't eat her?"

Knockout's smirk widened.  All he said was, " _Well_."

Melody couldn't quite contain a blush.  Avi had told her that the medic had "a human thing."  She wondered if the seekers had the slightest idea what they were talking about.

"It's a shame she had to leave," Knockout mused.  "You would have liked her."  He turned to watch Breakdown, who was pulling tools out of storage.  "Are you prepping for something?" he called.

"We've got more on their way from the front," Breakdown told him shortly.

"Busy, busy," Knockout sighed.

"I'll leave you to it," Melody said graciously.  Her gut feeling had been right.  She _did_ feel better than she had on coming in.

Knockout waved.  "Take care not to get eaten," he offered sweetly.

Melody flushed again as she left.  Scratch that.  The med lab was not a stress-free environment.  She marched away hurriedly.  It was time to seek out her bunk and get some real rest.

She was so focused on her goal that when she turned a corner she nearly ran into Starscream.  She narrowly dodged being kicked.  " _Oops_ , I didn't see you there," the air commander purred in a voice that said he definitely had.

"That's okay," Melody assured him.  "I didn't notice you, either."

Starscream scowled briefly.  But then he tilted his head and cocked one wing a little higher than the other.  "You're going back to your quarters."

"Yep."  She stretched pointedly and kept walking.  "I deserve a nap."

His face fell even as he followed her.  " _Another_ recharge?  Is once a solar cycle not enough?"

"Keeps my mind sharp," Melody chirped, shooting him a flawlessly cheerful smile.

"Yes, about that," he growled, stomping ahead so she could see his glare.  "What _is_ this ridiculous plan to lure Dreadwing into an ambush?"

"Already in motion," Melody replied.  "Not to mention Lord Megatron's new favorite plan."

His wings fanned out.  "I notice this plan did not receive any approval from _me_!" he snapped, voice jumping an octave.  "What _possessed_ you to approach Lord Megatron on your own?"

"A good idea.  Ever had one of those?"

"You—!" Starscream shrieked.

Melody joined the flow of Venchans and other non-Cybertronians into the organic quarters.  "Oh, sorry, Commander.  This is my stop."  She waved.  He crouched down, but it was impossible for him to chase her through the smaller hallway.  "We'll have to continue this conversation later!" she called.  "Bye!"

Melody laughed quietly to herself as she made her way to her quarters, a new spring in her step.  Maybe the real cure for stress was annoying Starscream, she mused.  If so, she would never need a drop of alcohol again.  She was even humming a little as she keyed open her door and strode inside.  She locked it behind her out of habit and wound her way back to the bedroom.  And then she stopped.

"We're not done," Starscream said lowly.  His holoform stood in the middle of the room, and he took slow, strolling steps toward her.  "You think I'm not aware of the game you're playing?"

Melody got the feeling he wasn't talking about the same game they had always played—the exchange of information and balancing of loyalties.  But there was not much else he _could_ be speaking of.  "I think you mean the game we're both playing."

He stopped close to her—too close—and looked down at her with glittering eyes.  His fingers trailed along her collarbone.  "Perhaps you're right."

He had backed her nearly into the wall.  She had to do something, and fast.  She opted for mockery.  "Starscream, are you trying to seduce me?"  He narrowed his eyes warily at her, and she pressed, "Do you even know how to kiss?"

Starscream's thin face twisted in a scowl.  "Of _course_ I know how to _kiss_!" he snarled, and darted forward.

Melody didn't have time to consider the ramifications.  She only knew that letting him too close would be a bad, bad idea.  As he moved in, she tilted her head back out of his reach.

It was the worst mistake of her life.  He wasn't aiming for her lips.

His mouth descended on her neck, pressing hot, possessive kisses down to her shoulder and back up to her ear.  Melody's back hit the wall and she clung to Starscream in shock.  His hand was on the other side of her neck, thumb at her jaw to keep her head tilted back.  She wasn't drawing him closer, she told herself.  She was only keeping herself upright despite her traitorously weak knees.  It was not a convincing lie.  She had never let Starscream get too close precisely because now she could not make herself stop him.

When he finally straightened, it was with a triumphant smirk at her flushed, breathless state.  "Most people start with the lips," she managed.

His expression faltered.  "With the what?"

"Damn it, Starscream," she sighed, and dragged him back down.

His lips crashed into hers.  He was a quick study, and soon she felt the slide of teeth across her bottom lip, the shift as his head tilted.  His fingers dug into her shoulder and her side.  Melody hooked one hand around the back of his neck and let the other trail down to the center of his chest.  He shuddered slightly and pulled her tighter against him.  They pressed against each other, every kiss deeper, as if they were trying to gain ground.

Melody was losing.  Starscream was far taller than her, and he kissed—like Starscream.  Like he was as desperate to be kissed as he was to come out on top.  He kissed like he was keeping score.

She was almost grateful when she finally stumbled backward into the bed; it meant she wouldn't fall backwards on anything worse.  But then one hand pinned her thigh against the mattress.  His fingertips pressed into her in a way that reminded her of his claws.

"I believe," Starscream rasped into her ear, "I know how this part goes."


	7. A Good Spy

It was possible Melody was making a mistake.

The enormous corridors between her and her assigned place at Soundwave's side stretched before her.  As usual, they were filled with Cybertronians.  Groups of soldiers, some with wheels where a seeker's wings would have been, clanked down the hall, conversation muffled by visors.  A tech stomped though holding up a datapad as tall as Melody in front of his face.  Life in Kaon carried on as usual.

If there was one thing she had learned from watching fellow rebels disappear, it was that the life of a spy left little room for mistakes.  One slip-up could end her life and the lives of her contacts.

But it wasn't a sense of impending doom that cleared Melody's path for her.  When she had first been brought here, the Cybertronians' lack of consideration for smaller life forms meant every trip down a crowded hall was a hazard.  Only her reflexes and ability to read crowds saved her from being trampled.  Now they moved around her—only by a meter or two, but enough to make a difference.  Melody wondered whether the change had happened gradually or they had noticed the shift in her mood today.

Melody had made some mistakes—or possibly one mistake several times.  Fortunately, she had a habit of turning circumstances to her advantage.

Finally, after weeks of biding her time, she was on a mission.

She carved her way through the flow of traffic.  Kaon's architecture favored inclines over stairs, which made the path from the organic quarters lift to her workstation a hike.  But she strode up and up to the surveillance center without losing any speed.  She would have to report to the main control room soon, but there was something she had to do first.  Decepticon soldiers parted before her, and she arrived with time to spare.

For once, the room was empty.  Soundwave was already overseeing matters from Megatron's side.  His usual console loomed like an empty fortress, dark and silent.  Melody went briskly to her own station and powered it on.  She had left a couple of innocuous tasks unfinished just for the occasion.

Of course, just because Soundwave wasn't here didn't mean he wasn't keeping tabs on her.  This was her first time accessing her workstation without his direct supervision, and he was bound to know it.  If she were going to make a move, he would expect it to be now, without him looking over her shoulder.  That was fine with Melody.  She did only what she was supposed to.  She dearly hoped the lieutenant _was_ watching as she rearranged a few files and deleted duplicates—normal things, things she should have done the day before.

"Do it right the first time," her mentor had always told her.  The easiest way to slip out from under suspicion was to have the perfect opportunity to turn traitor but never put a toe out of line.  A good spy only had to do it once.  This was Melody's first obvious chance to contact the rebellion, and she shut down her console without so much as accessing Kaon's comm network.

She left the same way she had come in.  There was an elevator to the main control room, which meant no more uphill climbs.  As she approached it, she kept to the wall, running one hand along the curving metal surface.

There was no perfectly safe way to send a message out from enemy territory.  But Starscream was still alive against all odds, and she intended to learn from him.

On the other side of this wall was a cluster of comm terminals for general use, which she assumed was the reason Starscream preferred surreptitiously slipping his personal messages out from this spot.  As she passed it, Melody flicked her datapad on and pressed send.

Despite the brevity of her message, it was so carefully encrypted that it was a gamble as to whether the rebels would be able to open it.  But she was taking no chances, and if they couldn't read her observations on the Decepticons then they didn't deserve to receive them.

_At Kaon. Will report when possible.  Do not send instructions._

That last was far and away the most important piece.  If Melody could have underlined it, she would have.  Nothing would endanger her more than receiving outside communications.  She could watch for Soundwave and wait for her opening; the rebels several systems away couldn't.  Besides, she knew what her cell leader would have said in any case: be careful.

Melody had only met her cell leader once.  Meeting in person never proved anyone's loyalties, but it did prove their species, and for the rebels that could be half the battle.  Melody had been shuttled in a few months after she started working for them.

"I don't like the codes," she'd said the instant she walked through the door.

An unassuming human woman had stared at her.  She was all practicality, dressed for hard work with her hair pulled back.  No one would look at her twice, much less guess how deep into the resistance she was.  "Why not?"

"Freedom?" Melody had quoted from memory.  "Hope?  Did a prime come up with these?"

Behind her, her handler (later her mentor) had suffered a sudden coughing fit.  The cell leader had given him a gently amused look before asking, "What did you have in mind?"

Melody had come prepared.  Her case and the staunch deliberateness with which she made it had impressed them.  She remembered the leader in particular looking proud of her in a way she hadn't placed at the time.  Afterward, the cell leader introduced herself as Nurse, a code name she claimed was fitting in more ways than one.

"Guy she reports to is called Doc," Melody's handler had explained helpfully.

She missed them.  The realization brought her back to Kaon with an unpleasant start, and her steps slowed.  Melody missed having someone check in on her.  She missed the rebel cell leader's concern and her mentor's outdated sense of humor.  Since her arrival, she had been too busy and too on edge to feel alone.  She had worked on her own on New Vos, but Kaon had truly isolated her from the rest of the resistance, limited as her contact with them had been.

For once, the elevator to the main control room was empty.  Melody let herself rub her eyes, pushing away any traces of worry and loneliness.  She couldn't hope to hear from any rebels, not here.  What she could do was make them proud.

Today would make a good start.

By the time the lift doors opened, Melody was standing straight and tall, ready to watch her plan succeed.

Megatron stood with his impossibly broad back to her, a dark figure against the glow of the screen.  Starscream paced in fits and starts behind him, alternately watching his leader and the screen.  "They should have reported in by now," the air commander hissed.  His voice carried all around the control room.  Two soldiers exchanged a silent glance over their consoles.

As Melody walked into the room, Soundwave's face turned toward her.  He stared at her for a handful of long seconds.  She was feeling so confident that she waved, and he returned his attention to his own console without alerting Megatron to her presence.

"Do you doubt your seekers, Starscream?" Megatron was thundering dangerously.

Starscream's wings slashed downward through the air.  Melody could clearly picture how his holoform's shoulders would drop with the motion.  "No, my lord, _they_ will perform their duty, but this _strategy_ —"

"Have they sent the message yet?" Melody called across the room.

Starscream shot her a dirty look, which was particularly ungrateful of him, considering how tempting it had been to watch the lord of the Decepticons take personal offense to his complaints.  But pulling apart high command wouldn't be beneficial to Melody's position—yet.  " _No_ , they haven't," Starscream growled.

Megatron half turned to look down at Melody, his red eyes the only glow in his silhouette.  She was beginning to understand, well and truly, how he had come to lead not just his own race but whatever other systems were in reach.  Whenever he met her eyes, he became not just the center of the room but the only being in it.  Before he could say anything, Soundwave twitched and an icon appeared on the screen—a small image of a soldier.  Megatron's eyes narrowed thoughtfully for a moment, and then he faced the screen again.  Melody let out a long, silent breath.

" _Lord Megatron_ ," said a tinny voice Melody didn't recognize.

"Report," Megatron demanded shortly.

" _Message is away, my lord._ "

"Very good."  The words were low and stretched out.  With Starscream, she would have called it a purr, but Megatron made it something infinitely more dangerous.  "Rendezvous with the initial seeker squadron at the coordinates.  Be ready for the traitor when he arrives."

Starscream scowled at the screen, wings high and pressed back.  But for all his dissatisfaction, he remained silent.

" _Yes, my lord!_ " the soldier replied.

Megatron nodded at Soundwave to end the transmission.  The screen went blank again, but he continued to watch it for another few moments.  "And now," he mused, "we wait for Commander Dreadwing to deliver himself into our hands."

"We will see," Starscream muttered.

Megatron turned around at last, but he did not even glance at Starscream.  Instead his gaze landed back on Melody.  She struggled to keep her ground, to keep her point of reference from becoming those piercing eyes.  "Yes, Lord Megatron."

He nodded, and it was a dismissal.  When he turned away she saw that Starscream looked ready to strike her, and Soundwave's inscrutable gaze didn't seem much friendlier.  Melody ignored them both as she bowed briefly to Megatron and left the control room.  She was almost to the elevator when sharp, quick Cybertronian footsteps sounded behind her.  She looked up just in time to see Starscream join her in the lift.  It seemed she wasn't the only one who had been dismissed.

There was nothing quite like being in an enclosed space with Starscream while he was in a foul mood, but Melody had learned to navigate the situation.  The air commander said nastily, "Well, _that_ was anticlimactic."

"Kind of like last night," Melody returned lightly.

Starscream emitted a strangled noise of fury, clawed fingers curling slightly as if they were already around her throat.  But his voice remained staggeringly low.  " _Oh_ , you are going to _pay_ for that."

"Same time, same place?" Melody asked sweetly.

His glare turned ambitious, and she escaped the elevator just in time.

Starscream had his own duties to attend to, for which Melody was incredibly grateful.  She had no doubt that if he were unoccupied he would spend his every moment either plotting against her or stalking along behind her with a steady stream of insults and suggestive comments—or both.  She could admit to herself that she wasn't sure she could keep him where she wanted him if he had any more free time.  High command in general had very little time to spare for her, and that was possibly her greatest asset.  Aside from Starscream, she tried not to attract the attention of anyone who _could_ follow her comings and goings.  Someone like—

Slow, powerful, decisive footsteps approached her like thunder.  She could feel the mood of the corridor change; she saw the Cybertronians shift and scatter in response to a new presence.

"Lord Megatron," she said.

The hulking form of the Decepticon leader appeared beside her.  His footsteps crashed in time with her every third heartbeat.  His armor plating glinted darkly in the corridor lights.  She did not look as far up as his eyes.  "Melody Boggess," he greeted.

She swallowed.

"You have been a surprisingly valuable asset to the Decepticon cause."

"I do my best, my lord," she replied, eyes forward.

"Yes," he agreed, voice chillingly quiet, "and your best has impressed me.  No other organic can claim that."

A polite _Thank you, my lord_ was on the tip of her tongue; and then she looked up.

He was not looking at her like a Cybertronian or even a lord, but like a force of nature—a pillar of stone and storm and fire.  And the primal force that made her heart skip was hunger, a barely contained hunger that burned in those sun-red eyes.  Her every instinct told her to say the words she had prepared and flee.  The only safe way out was through a respectful escape.  She could not afford the attention of Megatron, of all people.

But perhaps she could.  Perhaps a spy for the rebellion could make no better move than to draw the ruler of the galaxy under her power.  It would be more than worth the risk to know his secrets, to have his ear.  Melody studied the desire in his gaze and knew she could do it.

"Maybe they're just not trying hard enough," she said softly.

His eyes sparked like a solar flare.  "Or perhaps you have something they do not."

She challenged him with her own stare, eyebrows arched.  "Like what, my lord?"

Megatron smiled, sharp and deadly.  It sent a sparking thrill down her spine.  "That," he rumbled, "is what I am so eager to find out."


	8. Closer

"You think you're so clever, don't you?"

In the darkness, Melody could almost imagine the red gleam of Starscream's optics above her.  But it was the human eyes of his holoform that flashed at her in poorly concealed frustration.  The frustration had been apparent for the past few hours in the way he used his teeth and the way his fingertips dug into her like claws.  Melody met his glare evenly.  She lay flat on her back, perfectly content.  "I know I'm clever."

Starscream exhaled through gritted teeth; it came out half a hiss.  "Yes, obviously the cleverest thing a _rebel spy_ could do is gain the attention of _Lord Megatron_!"

"What's done is done," she said dismissively.  "What exactly do you want me to do about it?"

He leaned closer, his grip tightening on her waist.  "I want you to stop it—"

"Just tell him _no_?  Is that it?"  Melody's eyes narrowed, and she leveraged herself up on one elbow to meet him halfway.  "I'm flattered, Lord Megatron, but I'm too busy fragging your second in command to fit you into my schedule."  She tilted her head mockingly.  " _That_ won't raise any suspicions."

"Obviously not like that!" Starscream snapped.

She dropped the sarcasm.  "Obviously.  But either way, he's the emperor of the known universe.  No one refuses Megatron."  Melody had had the opportunity to do so, of course, but she had looked the leader of the Decepticons in the eye and crossed that line.

The seeker's face pressed into the crook of her shoulder, and he growled, a high, rough, feral noise that only Starscream could make.  A thrill swirled at the base of her neck at the sound, and she was tempted to tease him mercilessly.  But it wouldn't do to look insincere, not now that a deadly balancing act loomed in her future.  In addition, wedged deep down was an alarming sliver of guilt.

"Besides, you're overreacting," she added, lightening her tone.  "Nothing's happened.  It's possible that nothing _will_ happen."

" _You_ don't understand Megatron," Starscream spat, voice cracking.  He lifted his head to glare at her again.  His eyes blazed and his teeth were bared.  "He is insufferably single-minded, and once he wants something, he does not stop."

Melody's lips pulled into a smirk.  She flopped onto her back again.  "Starscream, are you _worried_ about me?"

" _Ugh_ ," he said eloquently.  His voice dropped back to its usual rumbling register.  "Don't get any ideas."

That was better.  That was the Starscream she knew.  It would be difficult to keep him cooperative now that Megatron had well and truly noticed her, but she believed she could do it as long as she kept him at a slight distance—or at least kept him off balance.  To that end, she said, "Can I ask you something?"

He narrowed his eyes at her.  "What?" he asked warily.

"What's the deal with this?"  She reached out and lightly brushed the center of his chest.

Starscream shuddered.  "Spark casing."

Her very basic knowledge of Cybertronian anatomy could have told her that much, but she had never considered it.  "Is it sensitive?"

"Well, it is certainly _intimate_ , though—"  He broke off with a wide-eyed, offended stare.  "Wait— _you didn't know_?"

She shook her head.

Starscream released her waist to plant his hand on her other side, leaning over her with a scowl.  "Are you telling me you touched my spark casing _on accident_?"

Melody smiled with impeccable innocence.  "That explains why you reacted that way."

Starscream's affronted sputtering was interrupted by a tone at the door.  "Melody Boggess is demanded," said a voice over the wall intercom.  The voice buzzed with a dozen implied pitches, and it took Melody one startled moment to remember that was what Venchans sounded like.  "Melody Boggess will come with me at once."

Melody nearly let out a Starscream-esque growl at the timing.  "Get out of here," she mouthed at Starscream.

"I _hate_ jumping the connection that way," he hissed.

Melody had no sympathy for him.  Jumping back and forth from holoform very suddenly or across a long distance, she'd learned, was uncomfortable and extremely disorienting.  But it certainly wouldn't kill him.  "That didn't stop you the first time."

"That was—!"

She put a finger over his lips.  His face contorted furiously, and he pushed her hand away, pinning it beside her head.

She waggled her eyebrows.  "Now let's not start _that_ again," she whispered.

"Melody Boggess is demanded," repeated the voice at the door.  "I will enter."

With a quiet but heartfelt groan, Starscream rolled back onto the bed, collapsing onto his back.  As he did, the hard light projection dissipated into nothing, and Melody was alone in the room.

Alone and naked, but there was only so much she could do.  She pressed the wall intercom.  "Let me get dressed," she said brightly.

There was silence, and her eyebrows rose.  She had no idea how Venchans felt about nudity or punctuality.  At last, the voice said, "Then you will come with me."

"Understood."  Not for the first time, she wondered whether Soundwave had been the one to push for an alliance with the masked, efficient, normally silent race.  Then again, if Soundwave had any say in who the Decepticons employed, she was bound to be fired soon enough.  The only person angrier than Starscream over recent developments was her inscrutable supervisor.

Melody freshened up and dressed as quickly as she could.  She also took a moment to activate her newest acquisition, a sleek black device about the size of her forearm.  It had been surprisingly easy to get.  She was beginning to have friends in all the right places.  All it took was mentioning holoforms to Scramble.

"Can they appear anywhere they want?" she'd asked.

Scramble had given her a long look for that one.  "Within a range, yeah, I guess.  Why?  You can't use 'em."

"It's not me using holoforms I'm worried about," she'd admitted with just the right mix of wryness and concern.  "It's Knockout."

The next day, the seeker had shown up with a holomatter disruptor and another rant about the medic.  Now all Melody had to do to ensure that she didn't return to find Starscream in her bedroom was press a button.  She only hoped Scramble would be discreet about the fact that she had it.  But even if he didn't, there wasn't any reason for her _not_ to have one.

Her quarters secure, she left with the Venchan, who didn't speak another word even when Melody asked them where they were headed.  It wasn't often she was fetched rather than simply called, and she wasn't at all sure how it boded for her.

Her anxiety mounted into dread when, instead of heading up the familiar ramps to her workstation, they made their way to the lifts.  The lift floor pressed up on her feet, and after that, she knew there was only one possible place they could be going.

The lift doors opened to the vast chamber of the main control room.  The Venchan stayed in the lift, but made it clear by body language alone that she was to continue.  Melody walked out into the harsh lighting that shone on the walkway.  Below her was a dark pit, scattered with the glow of hundreds of consoles and visors.  Standing above the silent bustle, in the forward end of the room, were two familiar figures.

Melody did not hurry across the walkway.  She took that time to read the situation.  For once, Megatron was not facing the screens; nor was Soundwave absorbed in his own console.  Instead, they were looking at each other.  Melody couldn't tell what they were saying or even whether they were saying anything at all, but something important was happening.

When she did arrive, she bowed.  She was becoming practiced at it.  "Lord Megatron."  For Soundwave, she added, "Lieutenant."

Soundwave stared at her, faceplate blank.

"Melody Boggess," Megatron greeted, voice rumbling through the syllables of her name.  "It is time you took a more active role in hunting down our enemies."

Her breathing stilled.  "My lord?"

"Your work has been most impressive.  You will soon be entrusted with other, broader ways to serve the empire."  Sharp teeth showed in something more a threat than a smile.  "Assuming the results are in our favor."

Melody's heart sank right into her stomach.  Starscream had told her that she was only here to recover the stolen data.  She had assumed that as soon as it was back in Decepticon hands, she would be quietly moved back to her former position.  How much longer did she have to survive here?  She was startled from her thoughts when Soundwave twitched.  "I'm sorry, my lord.  I'm just surprised.  I didn't realize my place here would be long term."

"You have proven yourself a skillful and loyal subject."  Megatron's molten red eyes burned.  "And you will serve at my side."

"Yes, Lord Megatron."  She bowed to regain her composure.  "I would be honored."

Was it her imagination, or was Soundwave _simmering_?  There should have been no way for her to tell, but she could all but feel the dissatisfaction radiating off him.

"Excellent," Megatron said, pulling the word into a knifelike smile.

Melody had made contingency plans.  She had made allies, even if they were sometimes unwitting allies.  She had found ways to continue her work for the resistance and pass them vital information.  Even so, she was sick with dread.  She managed, "Will I continue to report to Lieutenant Soundwave?"

"Yes."  She relaxed until he continued, "Unless you are required here."

She nodded wordlessly.

Megatron stared down at her.  His bearing and intensity pulled at her like gravity.  "Melody."

Her heart stuttered at the sound of her name spoken like distant thunder.  She couldn't help but look at him.

"These rebels are becoming a threat.  They would tear apart my empire and defy my rule, but they dare not face me.  They cower behind encryptions and codes.  I need you to hunt them down.  Reveal them to me so this final insolence can be wiped from the face of the galaxy."

This was power: to look at people like Melody and her mentor and the brave pilots and soldiers that lashed out against Decepticon rule, to see them as a pestilence, and to be able to command their extermination.  No one in the universe should have been able to claim that power.  This was why she fought.  Even so, terror chilled her very bones.  She bowed for a third time.  "Yes, my lord."

"Good," he said quietly.  "Dismissed."

Melody made her way back toward her quarters in a daze, her feet following the familiar route without active thought on her part.  It wasn't as though she was unprepared, she reasoned.  She had plans in place.  But she hadn't _expected_ to be here so long.  Believing that she would be returning home soon and then being denied that opportunity was jarring.

But as she had just told Starscream, no one refused Megatron.

"Hey."

It was a testament to Melody's mental state that she nearly jumped out of her skin at the greeting.

"Sorry," Avi offered.

"It's okay," she managed.  "Hi."

Avi fell into step beside her, as much as he could.  "So is the disruptor working?"

Melody took a deep breath, bringing her thoughts to the present.  "Scram told you about that?"

"Just me," Avi said defensively.  "He wanted me to look out for you."  He paused.  "Don't tell him I told you that."

She smiled, really smiled, despite everything.  "You're a real buzzkill, Avi."

"Sorry?"

She sighed.  "Yes, as far as I know, it's working.  You can tell Scram that Knockout hasn't managed to seduce me yet."

Yet.  She mulled over that word, amused but weary and very stressed, long after Avi had agreed to pass on the message and left.  She returned to blessedly empty quarters and stretched out on her bed.  Yet.  If she managed to snag any more of Decepticon high command, there wouldn't need to be a rebellion anymore.

For a moment, she imagined it.  Knockout was nonchalant and far too easy to talk to, and he didn't seem to have any personal agenda beyond amusing himself.  It could be fun.

"Ugh."  She pressed her hands over her face.  She had enough on her plate as it was.

She had seven hours until she had to be up again.  Eventually, Melody did manage to fall asleep.  But it was an uneasy sleep, full of red-eyed figures and too many possible futures.


	9. Control

The next day, Melody's only future was making it to dinner.

Very occasionally, she had found, the cafeteria produced a salty, chewy mush originating on some distant world.  What it was called was not important.  What was important was that it made a good approximation of macaroni and cheese, and Melody had never missed an opportunity to eat it.  The Decepticons didn't much care about organic comfort, certainly not enough to ship in expensive foods.  So she looked forward to the simple pleasure of eating something she truly liked in a few hours.

Her promotion to a permanent position loomed over her, but for today, there was nothing more to be done about it.  They were all waiting for the stolen information.

Melody was in the control room along with a collection of officers.  Soundwave avidly ignored her, as he had been doing for some time now.  Even when they worked together, the communications officer never glanced her way.  He did type a bit more forcefully than usual, though that could have been her imagination.

Megatron stood at ease, gaze locked on the screen.  But he wasn't facing it entirely.  She had a perfect view of his profile—and he had a perfect view of her.

Starscream alternately snapped orders at the grunts in the pits below and paced the walkway.  He vented so often he might have been an old laptop.  However badly she didn't want to be here, Melody could at least say that she had better composure than Starscream.  Perhaps that was why she kept him around: for comparison's sake.

At last, there was the ping of an incoming transmission.  _Finally_ , Melody thought.  She had been waiting here at least half an hour.  She much preferred the normal process of being called up when something had happened, not lingering until it did.  But though Megatron had not looked her way more than twice, she got the unshakeable feeling he had simply _wanted_ her here.

They waited for the systems to receive and decrypt the message.  This was no comm conversation; it was a single information package dispatched for Kaon.  Melody just hoped that meant what she thought it did.

Megatron nodded slightly, and the message began playing.  " _Lord Megatron_ ," the audio said, and Melody started at the sound of Nova's voice.  " _Dreadwing has been spotted entering the system.  We're in position.  We will open a channel when he's in custody_."

And that was all.  Megatron's chin tilted up, and for a moment, he continued to watch the screen in silence.  Starscream seethed in that same silence, wings flexing outward in affront.

The time was really here.  Nova had sent a single transmission to reduce the risk of Dreadwing intercepting it.  The stolen data was actually within their reach.  If the seekers failed, would she be punished?  Or would she be quietly released from this giant metal death trap?

What was she going to do if they pulled it off?

"Keep alert," Megatron said.  Soundwave nodded his acknowledgement.  Megatron's optics gleamed.  "I want to know the moment the outcome is decided."  He turned to Melody.  "Congratulations, Boggess.  Whether or not the seekers are capable enough to bring down Commander Dreadwing, your strategy succeeded in getting him there."

Suddenly it was a much more pressing question.  Megatron's gaze glittered with his answer.

"If you have no objections, my liege," Starscream grumbled, "I have other duties."

"Go, Starscream."

Despite how eager he had been to leave, the answer only seemed to infuriate Starscream more—possibly because Megatron never looked away from her to give it.  With a final flick of his wings, Starscream stormed off.  Melody bowed and made to follow him.

"Not," Megatron rumbled, "you."

She stopped.  When Starscream glanced over his shoulder at her, the fear he saw in her eyes was no pretense to keep his jealousy at bay.  It was very real.  But neither of them said a word, and a moment later he had vanished into the elevator.  Melody turned around.  "My lord?"

"Let us see how your plan plays out."  There was challenge in his voice.

Melody tried to think of the macaroni and cheese mush, but even that couldn't carry her through more waiting in the control room while Megatron stared at her and Soundwave did not.  "It may be a few hours before we know anything," she said.

"Your point?"

She raised her eyebrows before she could stop herself.  "Don't you want a break, Lord Megatron?"

The buzz of machinery made the ensuing silence more obvious and oppressive.  Finally, he spoke.  "You will come with me."  It was a stated fact, not a request.  "Lieutenant, you have the control room."

Melody obeyed.  She followed his thundering stride across the walkway to the elevator.  She hoped that whatever level they went to, they wouldn't find Starscream standing around sulking.  "Where are we going?" she asked.

"I'm humoring you," he replied.  She hadn't realized his rough, resonant voice _could_ sound teasing.

They remained on the upper levels, nowhere near the paths she would use to retreat to the organic quarters.  She was unfamiliar with most of the territory up here.  She certainly didn't know the chamber Megatron led her to.  There was very little in it except for a ramp leading up to a solid shelf jutting out of one wall.  It was high enough off the ground that she could have looked Knockout in the eye.

"Built for minicons," Megatron explained.  He closed the door and hit a few decisive commands on the keypad next to it.  "This place has not been used in quite some time."

Melody climbed the ramp without prompting.  She could admit to herself that she was tired of always craning to look up at these massive Cybertronians.  Megatron did not protest as she reached the shelf and turned to face him.

She had been wrong.  Her vantage point was higher, but he was just as large.  And now he was watching her with terrible intent.  His optics captured her gaze and drew her in as they always did.

Megatron leaned toward her.  His red optics blazed brighter as they grew closer, from distant suns to raging fires, and she could feel the heat as they fixed on her.  He reached out.  Steely talons slid toward her in the air between them.  Seeing Megatron like this—over her, before her, larger than she could fathom—Melody understood how some races mistook him for a god.  The sheer power and size that dwarfed her could only be a force beyond their understanding.  The talons' deadly points all but brushed over her cheek.

And then a hand threaded through her hair.

Megatron stood before her.  It was him, but contained, if barely, by a human form.  He still towered.  Something caught in her throat at the sight of those features—the dark hair streaked with gray, the heavy brow, the square jaw.  He bared his teeth and it could be no one but Megatron.

She'd had no idea he had a holoform.

Melody stepped back, but he caught her wrist with his free hand and dragged her closer.  Dark eyes searched hers.  It was easy to imagine red shining at their centers.  His lips parted, and for a moment she thought she saw pointed teeth.  He was waiting to strike.

Melody sucked in a breath.  And then she smirked lightly.  Easy mockery in the very face of danger.  "How can I serve you, my lord?" she asked lowly.

She always knew just what to say.

Megatron's lips crashed into hers.  She was nearly lifted off the floor by the grip on her arm, but the pressure barely registered over the way his mouth was claiming her lower lip with tongue and teeth and force.  He released her only long enough to wrap one arm around her lower back, pressing her hips against his.  He was still so large, and she felt so small in his effortless grasp.  Her hands traced that iron jaw on their way to the back of his neck.  Her fingers tightened as she realized she was tilting backwards, impossibly far.

Megatron leaned slowly forward, keeping Melody underneath him.  Her weight rested entirely on his forearm.  When he growled, it shuddered through his body and into hers.  Finally, he lowered her to the floor.

Melody looked up and saw him as an enormous cage around her.  One hand was planted on the floor beside her head, the other just brushing her waist on the other side.  He was arched over her like a predator over prey.  He smiled, lazy and vicious.  "I've surprised you," he noted.

Melody couldn't fathom what her face might look like.  But she was flushed, so flushed, and out of breath.  The thrilling fear of being trapped ran along her spine even as her back nearly lifted off the ground to find his body again.  "I didn't know you would know how to please a human."

The smile widened and sharpened.  His hand slid up her shirt and found the center of her chest.  _Spark casing_ , she thought distantly.  But he wasn't caressing it.  He leaned closer, weight behind his hand.  No, he was using it to pin her down.  "You are not the only one here with skills, Melody Boggess," he rumbled.  And then he descended on her, pressing on her hips and biting at her neck.

Melody gasped, her hands dragging down his shoulders.  She had started down this path for the sake of influencing the most powerful being in the galaxy.  She had come here to play the game.

Now she wasn't sure who was in control.


	10. Aftershock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short one! The next one will be good and long~.

This had to be the worst walk of shame in the history of the Decepticon Empire.

Melody had only two advantages as she made her swift way from the officers' levels back down to the organic quarters.  First, it was possible that Cybertronians had no concept of a walk of shame.  Their appetites apparently ran at high gear, but she'd never heard the idea mentioned, so perhaps their minds wouldn't go that route.  Second, her coworkers were beings of metal and motors.  She had already come to terms with their shared ignorance when it came to organic needs and functions.  So even if they did see her and suspect, they probably wouldn't know the meaning of her flushed face and slightly frazzled ponytail.  She had actually done a fine job making herself presentable—plenty of practice after Starscream's visits—so surely they wouldn't piece together the little details.

That was what she told herself, anyway.  And though she drew curious gazes on her way out, they seemed none the wiser.  One soldier, a guard working his rounds, asked if she was lost with a baffled wariness that told her he knew nothing.  She took some solace in that, even if the soldier kept glowering at her.

The least Megatron could have done was give her a hall pass out of here.

Anger fueled her as much as embarrassment.  For a moment, she'd thought Megatron wouldn't answer the summons.  He'd rumbled irritably into her back when the comm kicked on, and even though she had been sure she was spent, the tremor that had sent up and down her spine made her think that maybe she could go _once_ more.

But no.  When they had explained that the capture of the elusive Dreadwing had not gone as planned, Megatron's eyes had lit with a new fire.  He had left Melody to put herself back together.  She couldn't make herself believe that he had forgotten she had no holoform and couldn't leave so conveniently.

Perhaps it was best that they had been interrupted.  Perhaps it was best that her plan had hit some nebulous snag that required Megatron's personal attention, so he would no longer see her as the perfect asset to his empire.  None of that made her less worried or frustrated.

She knew that influence and leverage took patience.  They were often developed over time spent easing her way into someone's trust.  And Megatron would likely take more time than most.  But she couldn't help the sinking feeling that by ingratiating herself with a warlord, an emperor, she had bitten off more than she could chew.

But Melody would admit she was wrong when she was dead.  Until then, she had to get back to her quarters and shower.

Her journey was easier once she got back to the lower levels, where an organic was a less conspicuous sight.  If any of the soldiers looked too familiar, then it didn't matter; she seeped through the cracks in foot traffic too quickly for them to catch her.  Only Six managed so much as eye contact with her, and he didn't say anything—just watched her until she turned a corner out of sight.

Even so, Melody checked the corridor behind her while the elevator doors opened.  No one showed any interest in her.  It was a short ride down to the organics level, and then—

" _There_ you are."

_No, no, no._

Starscream stood inside the elevator, stance cocked to one side in frustrated impatience as he looked down at her.  Starscream, the only being who knew with absolute certainty what her physical state meant, took in her appearance.  She watched the rage catch in his eyes like an oil fire.

"I'll take the next one down," she said.

"What—" he began furiously.  A passing soldier flexed his wings in concern, and Starscream choked off the rest.

"Sorry I'm late, Commander," Melody announced.  At her perfunctory tone, any interest in the scene evaporated.  "I couldn't get away.  Maybe tomorrow?"

She wondered whether Cybertronians could overheat and shut down from pure anger.  Starscream stepped out of the elevator and watched her get on, all without a word.  The elevator door closed on his crazed glare.

The sound of her own heartbeat crashed over the ensuing silence.  She was alone in the car, moving downward at what seemed like a glacial pace.  She tried to steady her breathing.  She had time, if not much, before Starscream inevitably made a bad decision.

As soon as the doors opened again to the organic levels, Melody was moving.  Faster and faster she walked the corridors toward her quarters.  Her pace never broke into panic, but it said clearly she was not to be disturbed, and no one got in her way.  There were few enough beings there, anyway; she had clearly arrived in the middle of a shift.  There was nothing to slow her down.

Not for the first time, Melody was in a race in which she couldn't see her opponent's progress.  As she moved, she ran estimates.  She had crossed paths with Starscream at the bottom of the main levels.  Unless there was another unused room she didn't know about, he would have to get to at least the barracks to find enough privacy to transfer to his holoform.  All she had to do was get back in the range of the holomatter disruptor—essentially her quarters—before he managed that.

She finally passed into the residential halls.  Even the sparse noise of the cafeteria faded to silence, except for her quick, sharp footsteps.  Part of her mind had been tracking the time since she had stepped onto the elevator.  It was going on six minutes.  She had one more corner to turn.  She curled her fingers around it as she reached it, and pulled to propel herself just a bit faster.  The door to her rooms was in sight.

A thin hand with a grip like a garrote twisted her arm behind her back and jerked her to a painful halt.  "I warned you," Starscream growled in her ear.  "I _told_ you he would get what he wanted."

She had lost the race.

Against her instincts, Melody twisted closer to Starscream and struck as close to his wrist as she could.  It would have broken a human's grip at once; here, it allowed her only enough leeway to pull free and back away.  "And I told you," she said, pointedly keeping her voice down, "that there was nothing I could do about it."

"Liar," he spat.

She raised an eyebrow.  "Have you heard the human saying about the pot and the kettle, Starscream?"

"I don't have time for your _games_ ," he snarled.  Despite her retreat, in three long strides he had caught up and loomed over her, eyes glimmering dangerously.

"You've said that before."  She should have moved back or looked away, but it was harder than it should have been.  "Now look where we are."

"Now look where we are," he repeated scornfully.  "Your precious plan located an entire rebel cell along with the stolen data, and you've just been conquered and claimed by Lord Megatron himself."  He sneered.  "It makes me wonder, Melody, what side you are really on."

Melody stilled her fury at his audacity, at 'conquered and claimed,' long enough to feel fear.  "What?"

"Didn't you know?"  His tone turned low and nasty with triumph.  "Oh, I forgot—you're _not_ part of high command.  So you would not have been informed that your plan was, against all odds, a total success."  He took her chin in his hand.  "Dreadwing, the stolen data, the thief, _and_ a high-ranking rebel cell."  He tugged her closer, and she was in no state to resist.  He put his lips practically on her ear and whispered, "Congratulations."

She slapped his hand down and backed away, dazed.  More than once she had felt overwhelmed in the months she had been here, but not _useless_.  She was here to defend the rebellion, gather information, and sabotage the inner workings of the empire.  Instead she had turned over dozens of rebels to Soundwave while biding her time and done exactly what Megatron wanted.

"What do you want, Starscream?" she asked quietly.

He advanced on her still.  "I want you to remember that I am in charge here.  I am Air Commander of the Decepticon Empire."  He raised his hand for her again.  "And you—"

She danced out of his reach.  "I _what_?" she scoffed.  "Belong to you?"  She spun away and made a beeline for her quarters.  But as she approached the door, Starscream pulled her back and pinned her against the opposite wall.

" _Yes_ ," he growled.

Her hands curled around his forearms, corded and immovable.  Freedom was four short steps away, but with all of Starscream's wrath bearing down on her, it might as well have been a hundred.  She had to support herself for what came next.  She glared right back at Starscream.  "Prove it."

His mouth captured hers without hesitation.  He pressed against her until her back ached from the metal bulkhead.  He was angry, violently angry, but she tasted desperation, too.  One of his hands moved to grip her hair and pull her still closer.  Megatron had kissed her like a predator that had already won.  Starscream kissed her like he was still chasing her down.  Melody only knew that she kissed, tasted, bit down with all the passion she had.

Just as she was beginning to lose herself, he straightened again.  His hands returned to her shoulders.  He seemed calmer, but even now his mouth was curling into another sour scowl.  He gathered himself up to say something.

She met his eyes, defiant.  "What's the matter, Starscream?" she asked softly.  "Don't like the taste of your emperor?"

He drew back with a rush of air, lips twisting.  His eyes were wild, hurt, enraged.  But the important part was that he drew back, giving Melody enough room to shove him with all her might.  The hard light projection fell back.  The image of Starscream dissolved before it even hit the door, still staring at her with indescribable fire.

This would have to be dealt with, all of it.  Between Starscream, Megatron, and the trap for Dreadwing, her balancing act was on the brink of becoming a spectacular fall.  But if she moved quickly and cleverly, it could still be managed.

Even so, Melody retreated at once into her room.  She locked the door and checked twice that the holomatter disruptor was on.  She started up the shower she needed so badly.  And then she sat down on her bed, shaking, for a long, long time.


End file.
